Deliverance
by Lex of Light
Summary: A foreign mage seeking to understand her heart, and a tactician following the ideals of a dead monarch. This is their story.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This takes place between chapter 9 and 10._

It had all gone horribly wrong, yet she had never felt so elated in all of her life.

She was supposed to plant fake memories of her death in his mind. She wanted to desert the Shepherds as quickly as possible. Gangrel's armies were close, and she didn't want to be subject to one of Plegia's public executions should Chrom's cause be crushed under the mighty heel of her country. She also didn't want to be hunted down by the Ylisseans should they perform a miracle and beat Plegia's superior forces. In that case, she needed to have their tactician say she had died in the last battle to have them forget about her. Memory hexes were simple, but the first stage was risky, for it involved diving into the victim's very being. All too often she had found herself repulsed by those who she cursed. Never had she thought that she would fall in love with one of them.

What she found in him was a mystery to her. Perhaps he was kindred spirit or a powerful wizard. For all she knew, this Robin could be some simple bureaucrat from Ylisse that Prince Chrom kept around just to say that he had a tactician. The one thing she was certain of was that feelings that would normally take months or years to develop had rushed to her heart in just a few seconds. The sensation of being drowned on her own emotions was almost intoxicating in way. At the same time, the fact that she had let this happen made her feel pathetic. Every dark mage was taught of the dangers of allowing a victim to unconsciously influence the caster. She didn't know if she had been careless or this had been meant to be. Either way, this was an issue she was going to deal with one way or another.

"Tharja?" Her heart skipped a beat at hearing him say hay her name. She had locked eyes with him all this time; the tired, almost colorless eyes of man who had been served the cruelest defeat half a day ago. He cleared his throat. "Pardon me, if I'm being intrusive, but you need to answer these questions."

"Questions?" Tharja couldn't believe her daze had been so intense that she didn't notice he had spoken. Her mother would've scolded her – by placing a curse on her.

"Um… Yes," he answered.

It was then that she forced herself out of her state and concentrated on him and what was happening. For the first time since they met, she finally got a good look at the man sitting across from her. He was a downright mess. His face and dark hair still had sand. There were circles around his eyes. He looked pale and exhausted from battle. The odd attire he wore was torn and burned in some places. This was not the picture she had of Prince Chrom's right-hand man, nor of the man who had defeated many of Plegia's most renowned commanders. However, his neat and clean tent filled with books spoke well of the man. She thought that his appearance was due to the grave circumstances surrounding the Shepherds, rather than him actually looking like a man who lost an argument with a Manakete all of the time.

"I know this must be hard for you," he continued, "and on behalf of all of the Shepherds, I thank you for joining our cause despite your position in the Plegian army, but I need to gather this information for tactical purposes."

"Of course, my mind was just elsewhere." _That elsewhere was your mind. The results were… unexpected._

"I heard this from Chrom, but I just want to make sure. Are you a dark mage?" He readied his pen to write something down in a blank piece of parchment.

"Yes," she nodded.

He began writing her information. Much to her displeasure, he broke eye contact as he wrote. "To what division were you assigned and what was your rank?"

"Imperial Guard and I didn't have a rank. All non-Grimleal dark mages are conscripted to fight for the Crown whenever the King pleases." Robin looked up. He was surprised at what he heard, and something told her that he wanted her to continue. "Plegia is the only place where a mage can learn dark magic. For generations, the kings and queens have held control of the study of this art and made it illegal to teach it without their consent. In a way, the Crown owns us by hoarding most of the knowledge we need."

"I see… Moving on. How long were you in service to King Gangrel?" She understood what he was actually asking. It wasn't a question about her loyalty – or lack of – to Plegia's Mad King, but of how experienced she was as a mage.

She smirked. "One week."

Robin scowled. "The battle in the courtyard had been your first?"

"Yes."

"Forgive me, but why would your superiors attach a rookie to the Imperial Guard?" Tharja did not like being called a novice. She had surpassed some of the most experienced sorcerers in Gangrel's pocket. The young dark mage could name several of her teachers that had called her the best of her generation.

Nonetheless, rather than boast her accomplishments like a fool, she thought it was best to tell him the truth. "My family is influential. They also thought the Imperial Guard would not see battle since no one anticipated you would reach the castle." She chuckled. "Father must be squirming right now. He hates being wrong."

"So you're inexperienced as a soldier, but for how long have you practiced dark magic?" He asked, almost sound interested despite the tired tone of his voice.

"Since infancy," she answered. "I casted my first spell when I learned to read at the age of two."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"That's really impressive," he praised. "I once read a few stories of plenty mages going mad after only two years of practicing dark magic. You've been doing it for fifteen and appear to be sane." Robin began to write a long paragraph regarding what they had just discussed. On her end, Tharja had been taken aback by his reaction. Most people called her parent monsters, not knowing that tutoring since childhood in the ancient ways of dark magic, instead of waiting, actually helped prevent mental and physical problems in the future.

"Do you have any other skills that could help us in or out of combat?" He queried after he finished writing.

"Such as?"

"Do you know how to use another weapon? Can you cook? We could use another healer, if you've been trained to use staves." Robin stated.

Tharja shook her head. "None of the above. I do know how to…" She hesitated to continue that last sentence. Never had she been ashamed of any of her skills. Robin, however, was starting to make her feel self-conscious, and she feared he might disapprove of what she almost said.

"Yes?" With an eyebrow raised, he waited patiently for her to continue.

"I know how to hex: place curses on people," she answered with almost gritted teeth. Just a few minutes ago, she had tried to hex him.

"I'm not familiar on how that works. Could you explain to me how would that be useful to us?" He asked politely, obviously trying not to irk her.

She looked down, finding the ground beneath them to be terribly interesting. "Say you've captured an enemy general, and he has information that is vital to wining the war, but he is not cooperating with you. I could place a curse on him that would force him to speak the truth without resorting to torture."

"I don't think Chrom or I would approve of that, but thank you for your honesty. Who knows, it may be helpful." He said neutrally.

"There's more to it!" she exclaimed before he began writing again. A startle Robin almost spilled ink all over the parchment. "Without going into too many details: these curses can take many shapes. It all depends on the caster and victim. Sorcerers sometimes hex troops to boost their morale."

"Interesting… Tharja, would you mind telling me more of this in the future? I'm not feeling well at the moment, so I may not comprehend it all." His curiosity sounded sincere.

"I wouldn't mind," she answered, trying to fight a smile.

"That would be all for now, Tharja. If you have any questions, please let me know." He stood up and placed the parchment on top of a neat pile of documents he kept next to his bedroll. "Although Frederick handles new recruits better than I." He paused for a moment and then looked at her. "Under normal circumstances, Chrom would also welcome the idea of helping you settle in, but with the loss of…"

"I understand," she said quickly. It was obvious that the death of the Exalt was a painful subject for him to talk about, so she ended the conversation as quickly as she could.

"Well, goodnight then…"

"Goodnight," she said as she bolted out of his tent.

Once she was far away from him, Tharja exhaled as if she had been holding her breath for hours. The young mage had two options before her, and leaving wasn't one of them anymore, for Robin had full profile about her. She could quickly gather the materials she needed to curse herself into somehow altering these feelings she had for Robin, maybe even forget them. On the other hand, she could seek out why she felt this way about him. Observe him… understand what makes him tick… follow him around. She knew that if she picked the latter option, then the former would be impossible if too much time passed.

_If I'm stuck with them… I might as well keep my fixation before Gangrel sends his dogs to kill us. _She smirked wickedly. Part of her knew she was going to enjoy this.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Wow! I truly did not expect such great feedback for the first chapter. I want to say thanks to all of you who reviewed and put this story on alert and on their favorite list. I was a little afraid that people would not like the approach I took, but I was wrong, so thanks again for letting me know. _

_This takes place right after chapter 10._

Chapter 2

The downpour was intense, as well as the horrible stench of blood and mud.

Robin would've given anything to have his memories back, to know who he used to be; but he would give more to forget the image in front of him. Corpses of Plegian and Feroxi soldiers were sliding down the slippery gorge. Mortally wounded wyverns screeched in pain alongside their fallen riders. Though, the worse of it were the grieving expressions of the Plegian knights that had barely defended themselves against the rage of the Shepherds and Regna Ferox. The dead woman beneath him looked like that, and it took a lot more strength out of Robin to pull out his sword from her chest than he used in the killing blow. Victory had never looked so disgustingly dreadful.

The tactician didn't understand what happened. The Plegians had every possible advantage they needed to win: numbers, several competent officers, the high ground, and a retreating foe. But they hardy fought back. It looked as if the Shepherds' push had been an overwhelming force of superior training and weapons, which was not true. The enemy that hated them had not been willing to fight.

Once the adrenaline started to fade from his system, Robin remembered the words of General Mustafa: _"Your rage is justified, Prince __Chrom__. But the meaning of your __sister's__ final sacrifice was not lost on me. I suspect many Plegians who heard her final words would say the same. If you lay down your weapons, I vow to protect you as best I can. " _The tactician's eyes widened in shock as he realized what had transpired, what he didn't see, and what he failed prevent. He knew Emmeryn's sacrifice must've moved their hearts; she had somehow freed them from their hatred of Ylisse. However, these were soldiers and knights. They were honor bound to fight and die for Plegia and her King. That was the conflict in their eyes – in the dead woman's eyes – that he ignored.

Robin's sword fell on the mud when his hands went straight to his head. _There might've been a peaceful resolution to this. _That realization made his mind race through the entire battle that just ended. He saw all the missed opportunities he had to end the conflict with the least amount of bloodshed… but he too wanted revenge for what happened to Emmeryn. Like all of his comrades, the death of the kind Exalt had left him bitter and angry. Robin was not a vengeful man by nature, though he did believe in justice. The problem was that Gangrel's head did not seem like enough reparation for her life.

She, however, would not approve of that line of thinking. That's what made Robin feel ashamed of what he had done. He did not care to seek out a peaceful resolution, as she would've condoned, but he had let the same hatred Plegia held for Ylisse into his heart. Emmeryn had been such a great inspiration for him in the short time they had known each other. The thought of disappointing her was unbearable for him.

Due to his amnesia, Robin's understanding of many things was limited. The departed Exalt had made him understand what peace truly was. Such an abstract term was difficult to fully comprehend by just reading about it. However, after conversing with her and understanding what peace meant, Robin had found a more fulfilling purpose in his role as Chrom's tactician. Knowing that he had briefly forgotten that sense of purpose she gave him, and replaced it with something more… base, almost animal…

He took a few steps back, as if fleeing the corpses around him. Not being mindful of his surroundings, Robin lost his balance when he stepped on a wet rock. Two slender hands stopped him from falling backwards. He turned his head to see Tharja holding him. She hid her eyes from him under drenched raven-colored locks. Robin thought there was something odd about her grip on him. It didn't feel like a friend helping a comrade prevent a nasty accident. Her hands on his back felt somewhat possessive.

"Thank you, Tharja," he said hoarsely. She briefly tightened her hold on him before letting go. Robin turned around to face his rescuer; despite the fact that she kept her gaze fixed somewhere else. Her odd behavior puzzled him for moment until he remembered where she was from.

_She's Plegian. These were her countrymen. _Robin had not considered how she must've felt fighting her own people under the banner of Ylisse and Regna Ferox. "Tharja, I'm…"

"Getting wet," she interjected. "Chrom's moving his forces to one of the nearby forts. He'll probably want to speak to you there."

He couldn't push the subject aside. His conscience wouldn't let him. "Do you hate us?"

She raised her head to look at him. "What?"

"I am unsure as how Chrom convinced you to join us, but your country hates Ylisse." Robin sighed. "I'm wondering if you do as well."

The dark mage looked irritated. "No, I do not hate you. I hate fools who live in the past and cannot acknowledge that things have changed. I also hate kings who are willing to sacrifice their countries just to satisfy their twisted goals."

_That's a really good answer. _Robin looked for the right words to say to her, but he found none. Thanking her felt inappropriate, although he felt compelled to express some sort of gratitude.

"I remember seeing a rural village near the border when I was a child," Tharja began. "Actually, it was the scorched remains of what had been a village. My mother took me there to learn how to sense the tormented souls who could not… move on."

"What?!" Robin was appalled. He couldn't believe that someone one willingly expose their child to such an environment, and he did not understand why she was telling him this.

Tharja scowled, not appreciating his tone. "Let me finish. Once we were done, I told her how I thought the King should hunt down the brigands who cause all of that destruction. Then, in a very sarcastic way, she explained to me how it was the righteous men and women of the halidom of Ylisse who destroyed an unprotected hamlet filled with only farmers."

Robin looked down. _Why is she saying this? _Details about Ylisse's more violent past chipped away at his resolve. Even though he knew that Chrom and Shepherds were in the right when it came to the current war, knowing Plegia's reasons made Robin understand them a little. Something Robin couldn't afford, for too much weighted on him, and he couldn't allow too much sympathy for the enemy into his heart. _I'm sorry, Emmeryn._

"Before I could say that we should attack Ylisse and make them pay for what they did, my mother told me how Chrom's father - the one responsible – died: alone and hated by everyone, even his own children." Tharja's creepy smirk sent shivers down Robin's spine. "If anyone should've been publicly executed, it was that man. However, the way he died and the way he's remembered by his people is punishment enough. This war is another story."

Her words had eased him a little of some worries. "You're right, Tharja." He smiled. "Have you stayed with us because you believe Gangrel must be stopped?"

"No," she answered. Her amethyst-colored eyes gleamed for a moment. "I have my reason for staying. While I detest King Gangrel, I'm not interested in dethroning him. That's your job."

Robin wondered what her reason was, though he did not pursue the matter. "That it is."

"Robin!" echoed the voice of Princess Lissa. "Khan Basilio's contact is here. We're getting out of here." The tactician grinned when he saw the blonde princess.

She was swinging her staff around to let them know of her location. Robin was relieved to her unharmed and well. He had lost sight of both royal siblings during the battle, which had made him worry since they had both been through a lot of hardships after seeing their older sister die. He nodded at Tharja and silently thanked her for her time as he picked up his sword. Then he sprinted towards Lissa, leaving the dark mage in the rain… alone. To him, his conversation with Tharja had been a nice way to get to know her a little more and to do away with some of his doubts regarding their cause. For a man with the ability to see everything in a battlefield, he had been unable to see what their conversation meant to her.

XXXX

Tharja was furious.

Robin never smiled like that to her. He never ran to meet her. In fact, after nearly two weeks of marching out Plegia, he had failed to notice her. Even during the battle, Tharja had felt invisible to him, even as she protected Robin from soaring wyvern riders with all of her might. It was maddening. But he was quick with a smile to so many others, especially Chrom and Lissa. That always ruined her mood whenever she followed Robin around. It was a strange emotion, one that she never experienced with such intensity.

Jealousy.

One moment she could be the happiest girl in the world, and then she wanted to burn someone to crisp. It wasn't just the women. It was everyone and everything around Robin. She was jealous of Chrom, Lissa and Frederick because he spent so much time with them. She was even jealous of a tree from yesterday because Robin noticed it. The worst part of it all was that it was all inflicted by her. Tharja had made sure he wouldn't see her. She had not been ready to face him yet, but she still had wanted him to somehow acknowledge her… even if it was impossible. Tharja quickly learned just how bittersweet love could be. She had stopped being content with just watching him after one day. She wanted some sort of feedback from him, but could not approach him directly.

It was only been after the battle that she gathered the courage to approach him. If he had not looked so lost, so conflicted about something, she might've not talked to him. While the subject had been unpleasant, she cherished every second of it, just as she loathed the Ylissean princess for cutting it short. Had she not interrupted, Tharja would've stayed with Robin even as the mud threatened to swallow them whole.

Wrapping her cloak even tighter around her body, Tharja willed herself to move on. Being left behind and not seeing him again would be much worse than one moment someone cut short. During her long and lonely trek through the corpse-filled gorge, a scary realization came to her. She had never been outside of Plegia, and there was good reason for it. Dark mages were shunned by everyone outside Plegia's borders. She heard stories of the few who left the safety of King Gangrel's "protection" were forced into banditry. This was going to be radically different setting for her; a world that would view her as a heretic and accuse her of being Grimleal, rather than a scholar of ancient magic.

Yet she kept on walking on Robin's trail. Mostly because the threat such a world possessed was nothing compared to leaving his side. The man was all she could think of, watching him occupied most of her time, and she could not even close her eyes without his image present in her dreams. Her attachment to Plegia, her country and home, was nowhere near her fascination with a man she barely knew or understood.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Again, thanks to those who reviewed. The feedback and constructive criticisms you guys give me never fails to lift me up._

Chapter 3

Even with the heat from the campfire, the cold air of Regna Ferox made Tharja almost completely numb. She would've never believed that there could be such low temperatures unless she experienced them for herself. Now that she had, Tharja vowed to never complain about the dry heat of her homeland. For all its faults, at least Plegia wasn't cursed by the gods with the evil white substance people referred to as "snow." The dark mage was convinced that it needed another name to properly capture just how menacing it was to life in general. _This damnable thing must've been created by Gharnef himself, _Tharja thought as she dusted some flakes from her cloaked shoulders.

But the worst part was seeing how some of the others were acting like a bunch of children. If she could start a fire in her tent, Tharja would've gladly done it a long time ago to spare her the image of Nowi, Lissa, Ricken and Vaike throwing handfuls of snow at each other. Tharja thought the Ylisseans had a strange way, maybe even extreme, of expressing their hatred; because to her, a death curse seemed far more humane than the torture they were going through. Their smiles and laughter confused her as well. She concluded that the world outside of Plegia had gone mad a long time ago.

She tried to make the fire a little more intense with a spell, but she unable to utter a single word thanks to her nonstop shivering. _I'm going to meet my end chasing Robin, _she thought, _and yet I don't mind at all. _With each passing day, she came no closer to understanding why she had fallen in love with the mysterious tactician, and she was starting to simply accept her feelings without any sort of justification. It made following him around and observing his dreadfully boring schedule all the more enjoyable. Sadly for her, the weather had made it difficult to keep up with Robin. She also did not want to wander too far from the fire, and was considering throwing herself at it to see if she could stop her pitiful trembling.

Tharja was thankful that her group had separated from the bulk of the Ylissean-Feroxi army. She would not have tolerated ridicule from the common soldiers had they witnessed her state. At least the few Shepherds Prince Chrom and Robin brought with them respected her privacy, or left her alone after she gave them one of her famous death-glares. However, it was getting harder for Tharja to send them away. At first she didn't understand why the Shepherds were so welcoming to her, but she suspected they were trying to lure her to a false sense of security. That assumption had been proven wrong after she realized that the companionship they were offering her was genuine. Nonetheless, she was not ready for such things. It was all too alien for her, and she needed time to adjust to how the Shepherds functioned.

Just like she needed to adapt to damnable chilly winds that started to blow slightly harder. She knew nightfall's nightmares were going to come before she fell asleep, if she could even manage to close her eyes. Tharja tried to recall memories of the nice heat in Plegia's dunes, but the only images that surfaced in her mind were scenarios in which she was embracing Robin for warmth… and affection. Those thoughts were pleasant and equally embarrassing. They did, however, serve as a nice distraction from the numbness that was spreading through her entire body.

She had lost herself in her own thoughts until Donnel banged his lance against the pot he usually wore as a helmet. Had the boy not been such so useful at gathering the ingredients she used in her hexes, Tharja would've turned him into a toad for bringing her back to reality. The carefree expression on his face did make her want to punch him in the gut, which she was unable to do at the moment.

"Welcome back, Tharja," he greeted. "Robin's been looking for ya."

Tharja found the will and strength to stand up in a second. Robin never sought her out. He would casually greet her if he could spot her on the rare days she did not use magic to stay out of his sight, but nothing more. The dark mage figured that she was just another soldier in his eyes, so hearing that Robin was looking for had lifted her downed spirits.

She couldn't ask where he was due to the cold, so she just stared creepily at Donnel until he got the message. By then, he had gone pale because Tharja had scared him with both her glare and dark aura that she usually kept in check. "Uh… he's… in the big," he gulped loudly, "meeting tent with Chrom and Frederick."

The only way the shivering mess that was Tharja could've arrived faster to her destination would've been if she had teleported there.

XXXX

The last time he saw Chrom with that grueling expression, King Gangrel had made his ultimatum to either hand over the Fire Emblem or let Emmeryn die. What Robin brought to his attention had been bad news that weighted heavily on the Prince of Ylisse. Chrom was barely acknowledging the fact that he would inherit the throne, so he was still getting used to the idea of having to make decisions that impacted millions of people. The way he desperately analyzed the map of the continent in the center of the tent was an indicator of him trying to look for a third option. Robin knew there was none.

"I'm sorry, Chrom," Robin apologized to get their leader's attention. "The best course of action is to return to Khan Flavia's keep and continue on with the preparations." Chrom rested his hands at the edges of the table and leaned closer to it. "It's not a matter of finding the most effective route. We just can't afford this campaign any longer."

"I agree with Robin, Milord," Frederick added. "He's been most responsible with our funds, but our resources are indeed running out. We should dedicate most of our efforts to dethroning King Gangrel.

Chrom sighed heavily. "You both speak of abandoning innocent people, and letting the die at the hands of Risen or bandits." Chrom raised his head to look at Robin. "I thought you said we could do this." Chrom did not sound disappointed or angry, but he did want an explanation.

"I said we had the means to secure trade routes and avoid people dying of hunger," Robin explained. "We can't visit every village in to check if they're alright."

Chrom lowered his head again. "They need to know that I stand with them."

Hearing him say that was like splash of cold water, for those had been his sister's words. "At some point we have to invade Plegia. Removing King Gangrel from power is still our first objective, is it not?"

"Yes!" he confirmed. "Can we go to Ylisstol? Surely we'll find all the gold we need in the treasury."

Robin looked at Frederick, who nodded. "It was sacked, Your Majesty. Feroxi scouts recently informed us that they took everything when they kidnapped the Exalt."

Chrom cringed at the mention of the attack in which the capital fell. "What about Regna Ferox? Can we ask them for the gold?"

"Flavia and Basilio have been most helpful to the war effort, and I'm sure they would love to aid us," Robin said. "However, Frederick confirmed my fears regarding their… economic issues."

"Regna Ferox is a poor nation," Frederick began. "They have too many warriors, not enough farmers and merchants. When they committed their entire army, they gave us all they have."

"I…" Chrom hesitated. "I can't make this decision right now. I need more time."

"I understand," Robin said.

"Of course," Frederick assured.

Chrom and Frederick left the tent, leaving Robin alone. He placed a little blue flag on the map. It was the spot they were currently in. _We've barely made out of Regna Ferox and we're almost broke. _The few villages they had visited were near the border between the allied nations, and Robin doubted they had all been Ylissean. Not that Chrom cared. He would help anyone who needed help.

Robin was going to leave as well, but a female figure in his way stopped him. It was Tharja, and she was grinning. Robin never thought that the smile of an attractive woman would make him so nervous and scared.

Although, the giggling she was trying to hide was the worst part, for it sounded sinister.

XXXX

_Control yourself! _Her head screamed after she noticed Robin had gone pale, just as Donnel had a few moments ago. For the first time in her life, she cursed her ability to creep people with just her presence. Tharja regretted running in without emotionally preparing herself for meeting him, not that she could've helped it. But after a few seconds of awkward silence, she stepped forward.

"You wanted to see me?" _Gods, I'm still trembling_! It was evident in her voice that she was freezing.

Robin's expression changed in a heartbeat. He no longer looked scared of Tharja, but concerned for her well-being. "For how long have you been like this?" Robin took off his cloak.

"I'm alright," she lied. Tharja was touched by his gesture, and she wanted the cloak. At the same time, she could not allow herself to have it. The dark mage knew she was capable of never returning it.

"Are you sure?" Robin insisted.

"Yes, a hex just went wrong." Tharja prayed that he wouldn't insist any longer. She could not lie for a third time.

"If you say so," he said as he put his cloak back on. "I was indeed looking for you." He pulled out a pouch from his pocket. "You didn't pick up your stipend yesterday." He handed it to her. "It's not much, only fifty gold coins, but the Shepherds never had much money to begin with. We started out as volunteers, because Ylisse has no formal army to protect her from bandits."

Tharja didn't care about money; she didn't even know she was getting paid! She was content with some food and a few hours a day of following Robin. While the reason he was looking for her was not a grand one, Tharja was happy that Robin remembered her. It was a start – not a great one, though. Not having anything to talk about, she inhaled deeply and prepared herself to leave.

"I've also been meaning to give you this tome for some time, but you're a hard woman to find." He took out a book with a purple cover from a nearby sack. "I'm aware the quartermaster has given you only elemental tomes. That's because you're the only one who can use dark magic. Before you came along, we had no reason to have a tome like this around." He gave the heavy book to her.

It was a Flux tome, the most common and easy dark spell to cast. Her deranged uncle wrote dozens of these whenever he needed money for his experiments, and she – a novice – had come close to finishing one. It was certainly useful, but not a great thing. But this particular one was special because he had given it to her. No one had received such a thing from him except from her, which made it the most prized possession she ever had. Tharja couldn't believe she was so happy over such a common spell.

"I… thank you." She pressed it against her chest like a mother would do with her newborn baby. The ironic thing about the situation was that Robin expected her to use it in battle, which she was going to avoid out of fear of depleting its magic. That would result in the book turning into ash, something she did not want since it was a gift from him.

"I bought that a few months ago thinking I could read it," he said. "It turns out that I can't understand a lick of it."

Tharja found something odd about what he said. "You thought you could use it?"

Robin scratched the back of his head nervously. "That's right, you don't know." He sighed. "I don't like keeping secrets from the Shepherds, and you are one of us now. Still, I ask you to keep this to yourself for the time being. I don't want the Khans finding out. Their faith in us may waver."

"I lost all of my memories," he explained. "There are a lot of things I don't know or understand, but I'm catching up as fast as I can. As for my abilities, they've surfaced as time went by. I knew I could use magic after my first skirmish with some bandits. I just didn't know if I was capable of using all types of magic."

If the subject had not been so grave, Tharja would've enjoyed the how Robin trusted her with a secret. But she did not. She was angry. It didn't sound as if Robin's condition had been self-inflicted, meaning someone had harmed the man she cared for. She wanted to destroy whoever did this to him. Disappointment at herself also came with the anger. She did not know how to cure whatever he had. It was certainly not a curse, for she could not sense one in him.

A scary thought struck her. _Do I love the man in front of me… or whoever he used to be? _There was no way she could know if this was the same persona after the incident. Tharja quickly shook that worry away, knowing it was unproductive and maybe even baseless.

"Well, I have to check our inventory," he said. "Just between us, right?"

"Of course!" Tharja exclaimed. "I would never betray your trust," she said sincerely.

He smiled at that. "Thank you."

When he left, Tharja found the resolve to follow him around despite the hellish cold. She needed to understand him more. She wanted to know how an amnesiac like Robin could face war the way he did. She wished to find a way to help him.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I've been silent as to what I'm going to do with this story, but that's mostly because I don't want to spoil anything. In short, this is going to be an expansion on the relationship between Robin and Tharja. This includes a lot of stuff. I guess I'm being vague because this story is still in it's early stages, and I'm sort of still trying to portray Tharja as a sympathetic character while keeping her in-character (not that easy). I will say this, the children will be very important._

_I'm nowhere near that phase, though._

Chapter 4

She cringed every time Robin was pushed back, and that happened a lot since Chrom was the better swordsman. Tharja respected Chrom's leadership skills; she even wished her own monarch possessed half of his character. But she hated how often Chrom picked Robin as a sparring partner. Stahl and Frederick weren't busy and were duty-bound to follow Chrom's orders. Yet he was hell-bent on pushing her precious Robin around, which made her blood boil in anger. Anyone else would've received a rock in the face. For Chrom, she hesitated. However, Tharja gripped a rough stone in her hand, just in case her patience ran out.

Just seeing the difference between the constitutions of both men was enough to rile her up. Chrom was bulky and strong, while Robin very skinny. Some of their comrades said he was Plegian thin, which was something she recently understood. Most of these Ylisseans and Feroxi soldiers were muscle monsters, a noticeable contrast to the slender Plegians. _He does share a couple of features with us, _she thought in realization, _but his mannerism and speech are not from home. _For the moment,she shook away those musings when she noticed Robin had distanced himself from Chrom.

Chrom scowled. "Are you sure you can't use magic when we train? I feel like I'm only fighting half of you."

Robin snorted in amusement. "Trust me, Chrom, it's my better half," he said. "Besides, there are no practice tomes I can use – it's too dangerous." To emphasize his point, Robin waved his wooden sword. The tool was nearly identical to the one Chrom wielded.

"If you say so."

The Plegian mage thought it was madness for them to go on, especially with all the snow around them. For her, both men had crossed the line that separated tough from stupid. It also didn't help how almost a dozen of the Shepherds stood around both of them as spectators that encouraged all of this nonsense.

To Tharja's surprise, Robin spread his legs and pointed his mock-weapon at Chrom. It was an offensive pose, which was odd because Robin was always on the defensive during these matches. Robin only struck Chrom when the Prince made small mistakes or fell for one of the tactician's clever traps of misdirection. Robin looked very bold despite the evident exhaustion in his uneven breathing. Tharja found him… oddly endearing in that position.

Tharja thought it was a ruse on Robin part to throw Chrom off until he could catch his breath, but she was proven wrong when the tactician charged at the Prince of Ylisse. Chrom parried the first three precise attacks. The fourth was an arched swing. Chrom evaded it by leaping backwards, because it had been delivered with immense force. A small part of Tharja celebrated Robin's momentum, which he continued by adopting a different stance and attacking with swifter but weaker strokes.

Tharja grinned when she understood what was happening. Robin had picked up some tricks from Lon'qu, and was using a rougher version of the Feroxi swordsman's style to attack Chrom. Although the Prince parried every single blow, it was clear he was having trouble adjusting to the sudden switch. This was the first time Tharja saw Chrom on the defensive ever since she began watching the two men train together. She felt like cheering for Robin with all she had, but she knew it would be incredibly awkward if she did something so unlike her. Robin also didn't need the distraction of the loving screams of a dark mage.

Robin paused momentarily to focus his strength. To the tactician's advantage, Chrom didn't retaliate. The leader of the Shepherds looked like he was trying to figure out the best option to respond to Robin's improved swordplay, but he took too long. Robin's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, and he leapt high in the air. The combination of Robin's might and gravity was enough to knock Chrom's sword out of his hands after they clashed. For a moment, the Prince looked like he was going to trip. When he regained his balance, Chrom rammed Robin into the ground.

Tharja became rigid when she saw Chrom pick up his sword. By the time Robin got up, Chrom was upon him. Before the tactician could resume his strategy, Chrom's years of experience and superior training kicked in. It didn't take long for the usual routine to start up again. The Prince's thrusts and swings eventually overpowered the tired tactician. With one hand, Chrom swung his sword in a downward arch. Robin barely blocked it. Chrom then landed a light punch, with his free hand, on Robin's chest. The force of the blow had not been great enough to injure Robin, but it did knock him back into the ground.

"Tie!" the downed tactician declared.

Chrom laughed. "Really?" He pointed his sword at Robin's exposed neck. "Tell me, my brilliant military advisor, how is this a tie?"

Robin hummed thoughtfully for a moment. "I'll get back to you on that one; after I recover from the head trauma."

"What head trauma? You landed on snow," Chrom pointed out.

"It's harder than it looks," Robin bluffed.

"I'll admit, you surprised me with that trick you pulled," Chrom said as he helped Robin up. "Keep it up, my friend."

Robin chuckled before coughing a bit. "I'm going to be sore all day." Part of Tharja felt like throwing the rock she had been holding, so she dropped it to avoid any complications. It was over and Robin was alright. Besides, she had better ways to get back at anyone who angered her.

With the match over, Tharja knew she could no longer hide in plain sight with the rest of the spectators. She stood up and hid behind a nearby tree without anyone noticing. The dark mage wanted to remain unseen because there was growing number of people who wanted her as a sparring partner, and they always asked after Chrom was finished. Just like Robin, Tharja didn't like the idea of using magic for training purposes. She casted spells at straw dummies if she wanted to sharpen her skills, but never on another person. On the other hand, curses were another story. Then again, giving someone a mild headache for being disrespectful was nothing compared to using a Shepherd as target practice.

Tharja saw Robin and Chrom converse about something. She couldn't overhear anything because of the additional distance between them and her. It seemed like Chrom was telling Robin to go somewhere else. She wasn't surprised, though. Robin never had the time to stay in one place for too long. He was always handling one or issue or another.

After both men shook hands, Robin headed towards camp. Tharja's mood soured when, out of nowhere, Lissa causally grabbed Robin's arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. The Plegian actually liked Lissa, though it was hard not to, but Tharja flared up every time the Princess got so familiar with _her _Robin. The reasoning part of her mind knew Lissa was just being her usual friendly self, and was probably just congratulating Robin on his improved swordsmanship, or perhaps aiding him in walking. However, Tharja was angrier at herself than at Lissa. The Princess could walk up to Robin and be the most affable person in the world, and he would respond kindly. Meanwhile, if Tharja attempted to be like Lissa, Robin would probably run for the hills.

The last thing Tharja wanted was to see Robin in the arms of another woman. _I want him all to myself! _She screamed in her head.

Robin smiled at Lissa and playfully patted her head. _I want him to be like that around me…_

Soon they were out of her sight. Tharja slowly slid into a sitting position and hugged her knees close to her face. For the first time since her obsession with Robin started, Tharja stopped to think on their relationship. She was very unsatisfied with it. They barely spoke, and he was a little nervous around her – everyone was.

The most frustrating part was that she didn't know what to do to get his attention. Her parents were going to marry her off to some powerful Grimleal acolyte or a rich scholar, so she didn't know a single thing about courtship, nor had she ever been interested in it. Now she regretted never studying the subject. Nevertheless, remaining idle was not an option. If he didn't fancy another woman, then some harpy would try to steal him away because he was close to the Prince of Ylisse.

_He's also not bad to look at, _she reluctantly admitted to herself, believing that her attraction to Robin was purely on a higher plane. _What if there is something between Robin and Lissa? How am I supposed to compete with royalty?_ The answer to the latter question was obvious for her, but it was the wrong one. She would not hex Robin… again. Not that there was a love curse she could cast on him. Though, there were some that could tweak his perception of her. She knew of some hexes that could make him think of her, and only her. If she wanted, Tharja could fool Robin into loving her. The Plegian mage, however, would not do any of that. Perhaps a simple hex to compel him to go somewhere she was conveniently in, but nothing that altered him in any way. This love was a thing of greed and infuriation. She wanted Robin to reciprocate her feelings without the need of potions and spells.

It was maddening!

She had never hesitated to take what she wanted. The difference between a mage and a dark mage was power, and that entitled her to grab what she desired the most, even if it was by force. There were limitations, but she didn't want to be Empress of Valm, just the affections of one man. As insignificant as it may seem, Tharja couldn't bring herself to bewitch Robin… in that way. She felt it was necessary to _earn _her way into his heart.

Tharja pictured in her head a most terrifying image: Robin gazing lovingly at her with hollow, emotionless eyes. She hated when her parents looked at each other with that fake expression. They did that to themselves so that the union would be tolerable. She couldn't even imagine what sort of hell that was, nor would she impose it on Robin – someone she genuinely loved.

_Then what are you going to do? _She asked herself_. Do you even know how to approach him like a normal person? Why do you stay away?_

The answer was simple, yet a proud woman such as Tharja had trouble admitting it. She feared rejection, and was not sure if she was capable of handling it. Part of her wanted to keep her distance, to remain wondering on what could've been, even if it meant being alone for the rest of her days. However, she wasn't going to act on those feelings of cowardice. As bad as being turned down seemed, a lifetime of regret was unacceptable. She chose to keep her feelings for him, to let them grow, and so she was going to see this through to the end.

XXXX

Robin almost tripped when Lissa stopped walking all of a sudden. She was acting strange, almost as if she expected to see someone because she kept looking around as they walked. The tactician just wanted her to walk straight so he wouldn't fall. Although leaning on her for support was a little awkward due to the height difference, he was grateful she made his trip back to camp a little more bearable. He didn't know what made him sorer, the constant skirmishes or training with Chrom. He was leaning towards the latter every time he hissed in pain after each step.

Robin's patience wore off after Lissa refused to move. He desperately wanted as a chair. "Lissa? Can we get going?"

She looked up and grinned mischievously. "What's the hurry?"

"I don't want to be late for my date with the quartermaster," he replied sarcastically.

Lissa sighed. "You have it out for him, Robin. Besides, you should rest."

Robin shook his head. "Not yet. I at least have to tell Frederick of Chrom's marching orders." Some rest and relaxation sounded heavenly, but there was so much work that needed to be done. Being the Shepherds' tactician and staff officer of the joint Ylissean-Feroxi army were tiring jobs, especially with the large amount of duties that were delegated to him. He didn't complain, though. Frederick was just as busy, yet he always had energy to spare.

"I can tell him," Lissa offered. "How hard can it be to tell Frederick what he has to do? Actually, I've been doing it for years, which makes me an expert." Just hearing those words made Robin feel grateful that he wasn't Frederick.

"I appreciate it, Lissa, but I also have to discuss strategy with him," he confessed. He kept silent about some other duties he had. Lissa was the closest thing he had to a personal physician, meaning she would scold him if she knew he was ignoring her recommendations.

"Fine, I'll take you to Frederick." She grunted in a very un-ladylike way. "Chrom has to go easier on you. The last thing we need is incapacitating our tactician in a training accident."

Robin smiled. "He has his reasons for not holding back."

Lissa gave him a look of disbelief. "Unless you're flirting with Sumia, then he has no reason to pick on you."

Robin didn't even dare to imagine what his friend would do to him if he said something romantic to Sumia. "I would not be breathing if that happened." His smile faded, and his eyes widened as a reaction to the frightening thought.

"What's the reason?" she persisted.

"He wants me to make up for all the time I don't train with the rest of the Shepherds," he explained.

Lissa's hand went straight to her forehead. "He expects you to keep up with the rest of us and do all your… um, everything else you do?" She pouted. "I'm going to give him an earful! It's not fair to you. He should at least work on some of the stuff you and Frederick do!"

Robin had to remind himself that Lissa was the youngest of three royal siblings, as well as the only one without the crushing pressure of leadership. The late Exalt led her people, while Chrom commanded what small armed forces Ylisse had. "Frederick and I only assume some of the weight of managing this army. I don't envy your brother's position," he calmly said. "Ultimately, your brother is responsible for everything Frederick and I do."

He knew his words sank in when Lissa looked down, though he hoped she hadn't taken it as a reprimand. "It's just… never mind."

They resumed walking in silence. Robin immediately felt bad about what he said. Knowing how insecure Lissa sometimes felt when it came to her elder sister and brother, Robin hoped she didn't take his comment as him criticizing her. However, Robin would not pursue the matter because it probably meant mentioning Emmeryn at some point, and he knew both of them were not emotionally ready to talk about her. He opted for simply changing the subject in an attempt to lift her spirits again.

"Are you expecting someone, Lissa?" he asked. "You keep looking around."

The look of mischief she had made him gulp. He silently prayed it wasn't another of her pranks, but at the same time, he was glad she got out of her stupor rather quickly. "I'm trying to spot your," she paused to think of the right word, "admirer."

"My what?" Robin asked in confusion.

"Drop the 'playing hard to get act', Robin. She's not here." She winked at him, thinking he knew what she was talking about.

"Some people have been impressed with my tactics, but I would hardly call any of them an admirer. And why would I 'play hard to get?'" He cocked his head. "I have an open door policy. I give advice to anyone who asks me for some."

Lissa was aghast. "You're kidding, right?"

Robin shook his head. "I have no idea about what you're talking about."

It started as giggling until it escalated into uncontrollable laughter. Her sudden shift from standing straight to crouching caused Robin to fall face-first into the ground. The snow didn't taste any better than the one from earlier. He was curious as to what she found so incredibly funny.

"I'm sorry," she said between breaths.

Robin managed to get up on his own, and Lissa did so as well after she stopped laughing. "Brilliant tactician, Robin, doesn't notice he's being stalked!" she said dramatically. "He can deduce what the enemy is thinking, but…"

"Please, just tell me," he interrupted.

"Tharja's being following you ever since she joined. For weeks she has been openly stalking you!" she exclaimed. "And you haven't noticed? The whole camp's talking about it."

He felt a strange combination of nervousness and embarrassment at the same time. "Surely what you've observed is a mere coincidence," he said to assure himself more than her.

"Whatever you say, Robin."

Robin paled when a realization hit him: Tharja always seemed to be at arm's length, in and out of battle. He doubted that she was interested in him in the way Lissa insinuated, but he didn't discard the possibility that she wanted something from him. That thought sent chills down his spine. He thought back on how viciously she could get as a mage, how she tore through their enemies with magical powers he could only dream of someday possessing. On top of that, Robin had recently gained a higher understanding on some of the other abilities she had – cursing and hexing.

"Gaius told me she tried to get him to get a lock of your hair," she informed him sweetly.

He ran his hands through his hair in panic. _What does she want?!_

"I think it's cute," she said.

"Cute!?" he nearly yelled. _What did I do? Did I do something to upset her?_

Robin feared Tharja had some nefarious plan, which included him. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't some spy trying to sabotage them. Nevertheless, she toyed with powerful and dangerous forces, of which Robin wanted to stay away from. There was also her personality. She had plenty of that to make everyone around her shake in their boots. Robin made a mental note to confront Tharja… once he gathered the courage to approach her.

_Maybe this is a huge misunderstanding. Perhaps she's not even following me. _For the first time in his life, Robin had no idea what he was about to face.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I am beating around the bush here: Five chapters in and still no C support conversation yet. This is the last build up chapter before that event.  
_

_I'm aware that Robin is almost a non-entity when compared to how much the story focuses on Tharja. He'll get more interesting later on. After all, he's the one that has to fall in love normally (Slowly. Nay, slowlier 'cause Tharja is who she is). I'm thinking the C support conversation should be told from Robin's point of view._

Chapter 5

She drew near him.

Tharja had finally gathered the courage to, initiatively, approach the man she desired. She felt like the boldest and strongest woman in the world. For far too long she had remained in the shadows, watching and studying him. From a distance, she admired this man. Though her mind had yet to understand why her heart went out for him, Tharja's conscience was relieved to know that she loved a good man. Previously, the dark mage never dealt with such feelings, but it seemed important to her that Robin wasn't some thug. In many ways, he was her opposite, and that didn't help how self-conscious she sometimes felt around him. She feared that he would think poorly of her; perhaps see her as a cold and unlovable woman. With all of those thought running through her head, regret suddenly invited itself.

Knowing that surrendering to second thoughts would lead to nowhere, Tharja silenced the nagging voice in her head that told her to keep her distance from Robin. Suddenly, she felt more whimpering than brave. Tharja had to remind herself of one very important detail: Robin was asleep at the moment. She mentally slapped herself for being so nervous around him while he slept. It was one thing to not know how to approach Robin, but she felt pathetic for her momentary hesitation while he wasn't even awake. At least Tharja's tensed state made it impossible for her to feel inappropriate for entering a man's tent late at night; if someone had caught her in the act, it would've created a huge scandal amongst the Shepherds.

The dark mage focused solely on Robin when she saw him turning and struggling on his mat. With a simple spell, Tharja lit some nearby candles. She knelt next to him and saw his pained expression. It was hard for her to see him like that, but it strengthened her resolve to stay by his side. Robin was having trouble sleeping, that much obvious to everyone. Some days he would drag his feet wherever he went out of exhaustion, and it was getting worse. A few of their companions suggested that Robin was stressed and simply needed to relax, others though he wasn't handling Emmeryn's death very well. Tharja, however, didn't give a damn as to what was bothering him so much. The Plegian mage just wanted to help him, instead of just hoping that it would go away. Truthfully, Tharja was waiting for an excuse to do this, so there was a bit of guilty pleasure in coming to Robin's aid.

Tharja gently placed the palm of her hand on his cheek, and then stroked it lovingly. Despite the kind gesture, Robin still looked like he was in the middle of a battle. She wondered if his lack of sleep had anything do with his strange amnesia. The possibility of a traumatic memory that kept trying to surface while he slept crossed her mind. Although her curiosity was piqued, finding out what ailed him came third to helping Robin, and then enjoying this opportunity to stare at him from the intimate distance between them.

As she caressed his face, Tharja chanted a calming spell on him. The incantation's effect was noticeable after a couple of minutes. Robin's features relaxed, and his muscles were less tensed when Tharja's magic kicked in. Out of fear of him waking up, she kept at it even after all of Robin's symptoms vanished. Seeing him sleeping normally was a treat for her – a small blessing during the hardships she was going through.

_You can't thank me right now, Robin. _She though mischievously. _But I'm sure you won't mind if I take something from you as compensation._

Her hand slid to his white hair. She had wanted to touch it for so long, and it was silkier than she imagined. Knowing he was deep in slumber, she played with his locks, enjoying how they felt on her fingers. Tharja stopped herself, fearing she would spend hours acting like a child. She reached into a small pouch she kept attached to her hip and pulled out a pair a scissors. With said tool on hand, Tharja cut a few hairs from the side of his head; they were more than sufficient for her, and few enough to go unnoticed by Robin.

She smirked smugly. _I didn't need that idiot thief's help at all._ Tharja had previously asked Gaius for help in getting a lock of Robin's help. Much to her anger, Gaius didn't follow her orders – it was never a request. Now she had what she wanted, and would still try to curse the fool. She pondered on the possibility of making him unable to taste sugar, even if it was far too harsh for what he did.

Aware that she couldn't linger for too long, Tharja looked at Robin one last time before leaving. He had never looked like that around her: peaceful… almost happy. A sensation akin to pride manifested itself within Tharja's heart. Knowing that he looked like that because of her was joyful, especially since he was… not himself around her. Robin was always a calm and collected individual around each member of the Shepherds, but she was the exception. Not that he treated her badly; he was just a little on edge around the Plegian mage. It wasn't like that at first, but Robin's unconditional friendliness couldn't last forever, because Tharja was who she was.

The temptation to stay with him was strong, almost immobilizing. The tactician plagued her dreams constantly, and it was nearly heartbreaking to always wake up alone. She knew she could avoid that, but at the same time, Robin wouldn't react well to seeing her sleeping next to him. That was what willed her to get up and leave quietly. To her consolation, she knew she had just done him a great favor. They were getting ready to invade Plegia, and Robin needed to be rested if he was to make it through the hell the Shepherds were about to enter.

XXXX

_She could be as predictable as she was beautiful. Although, Robin still felt foolish for not realizing it sooner. Of course Tharja would be in their dark basement, working on something he didn't understand, and by a table filled with strange ingredients. At least his beloved was not the boring type. When he notched that Tharja was not aware of his presence, a nefarious idea hatched in his head. _

_He slowly approached her from behind, and he embraced her quickly in order to scare her. She didn't even flinch. Tharja simply kept using her ceramic mortar and pestle. "Still not talking to me?" he asked rhetorically. He placed his head between her neck and shoulder. Tharja smelled of bats and toads, and he loved it. In fact, he missed it terribly. Robin didn't feel at home if that stench was absent._

_He sighed because Tharja wasn't saying anything, so he contented himself with just standing with her. By not pushing him away, Tharja showed that she wasn't extremely angry with him, and Robin was more than willing to stay with the silent mage until she came around. _

_She eventually acknowledged him by placing his hand on her flat stomach…_

"Robin!" Frederick called loudly, bringing the Shepherds' tactician back into their meeting. Robin reddened out of embarrassment and disbelief. "Milord, I believe Robin is unwell, he can't seem to focus on the matter on hand."

"No!" Robin exclaimed. "I'm actually feeling great. I haven't been this energized in months," he said truthfully. For the first time since King Gangrel declared war on Ylisse, Robin rested tranquilly. "My apologies, I just have a lot on my mind." _One of those things _is_ that strange dream about Tharja. _"Could you repeat what you said?"

Chrom nodded at Frederick, and the knight sighed in frustration. "Lon'qu informed us that the Khans marched ahead of us. If his information is correct, the Feroxi army has secured the border."

Robin took a deep breath and blocked every distraction from his mind. He knew that what was to come required his full attention. Otherwise, defeat would greet them out of the slightest mistake. "I can appreciate their initiative. What were their losses?"

"We don't know," Chrom interjected. "However, I believe their casualties were kept to a minimum."

Robin raised a brow. "How so?"

"Some of Ylisse's Pegasus knights recently reported that the border barely had any sentries guarding it," Chrom explained.

"It sounds little more than hearsay to me, Milord," the knight said. "It makes little sense. The Mad King knows we're coming, why would he leave his borders so undefended?"

"We crossed it once," Robin mused. "Perhaps he believes that it is better to keep the bulk of his forces closer to the capital."

"That does not bode well for us. Their forces are much larger than ours," Frederick pointed out.

"I still think we have the advantage," Chrom began. "It's true that they outnumber us, but we've been able to weed out Gangrel's generals. We have the Khans, and of course the three of us."

"It's true, one man cannot manage that many soldiers on his own without slipping," Robin said. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "King Gangrel has proven himself to be a cunning dastard. Mad as he surely is, the man knows how to lay a trap. I hope you are right about the Khan's casualties, Chrom. We may need their armies fully intact if things go south."

"Then how should we proceed?" Chrom asked anxiously. Although the Prince of Ylisse had not surrendered to bloodlust, it plain as day that he was eager to introduce the Mad King's neck to sharp edges of Falchion.

"As I see it, we have two main options," Robin stated. "We can reunite with Khans and continue our push through the dunes of Plegia, or wait."

"Wait?" Chrom didn't sound amused by the idea.

"We can set up a blockade, starve them out," Robin explained. "The pressure may cause a revolt amongst the soldiers and the people."

"Or it could drive any sympathizers we may have closer to the Mad King," Frederick said. "Besides, it is impossible for us to do that. Plegia frequently trades with the continent of Valm. That's why it's a rich country, and why blocking their access to Regna Ferox and Ylisse won't affect them much."

"Then we go after Gangrel," Chrom decided.

Robin nodded. "Agreed. Chrom, with your permission, I would like to coordinate with Khans once we meet with them."

"What for?"

"The best way to end this war quickly is if King Ganrel dies, but thousands of Plegians stand between us and him." Robin closed his eyes for a moment. He thought carefully on what he was about to say. "I believe the best way to do that is to pit the Khans against Plegia's main forces, while we push through and face the Imperial Guard directly."

Chrom smirked. "Gangrel's handpicked men against the Shepherds? Yes, I like the idea"

"I second that," Frederick said. "We've trained the Shepherds for such an encounter."

"Then it's decided, Robin. I don't think Flavia or Basilio will disagree with you." Chrom smiled. "But they might complain when you tell them that they won't exchange blows with Gangrel."

Robin chuckled. "Now I suddenly don't want to do it alone."

Before leaving the meeting tent, Chrom patted Robin's back and wished him luck with his dealing with the rulers of Regna Ferox. Frederick followed him out of the tent after saying his farewell. Robin heaved a loud sigh when no one was around.

His mind began thinking of that dream about Tharja, much to his shame. It had been so real, like those nightmares that haunted him regularly. Such intimacy with her – with anyone - was alien for him. Robin didn't know what triggered such a scene to play over and over while he slept last night. He certainly didn't have any romantic feelings towards her, though the dream version of Robin was head over heels for her. If he was completely honest with himself, Tharja frightened him a little, especially after he began noticing how she followed him around.

The irony of the whole situation was not lost on him. The appearance of Tharja, someone who made his skin crawl, in his dreams would result in the best sleep he's had in a long while. Part of him wanted to go over to her and apologize for dreaming of her in such a way, even if it was a tad silly. Even though he was trying to pass the whole thing as his subconscious having a strange sense of humor, Robin was having trouble distracting his mind with some duty he had to do.

_This is almost worse, _he thought. _Concentrate! Chrom is depending on you to see this through without any distractions._

His resistance was of little use. He could not get the terrifying mage out of his head.

XXXX

Tharja knew they were nearing Plegia when she felt the temperature rise. She thanked the gods for their march out of cold inferno some people actually called home. She would've celebrated on the spot if it wasn't for her two grinning companions, Nowi and Donnel. It was beyond her why they were always so cheery, and why they wouldn't let her walk in solitude. Tharja couldn't work on anything while the Shepherds were advancing, so she had no need of Donnel's help… or Nowi.

It's not that they were pestering her; Tharja simply had no idea how to behave around company. What could she talk about? Dark rituals? How to make a wyvern eat its rider? Robin? The last one was the most pleasant subject for Tharja, but she briefly considered the first option to see if they left her alone. It was futile, though. Nowi would nod and smile absentmindedly, while Donnel might actually be interested in what she had to say. The boy was fascinated by just about anything he had not seen in his simple life back in the barn.

Tharja could say that she's done things that most people thought impossible, like talk to dead people. But seeing a thousand year old Manakete befriend a farm boy was certainly something she never expected to witness. Then again, she knew better than most that the world was full of strange occurrences. It was interesting in its own way to witness the odd things that happened within the Shepherds, but none as captivating as seeing Robin carry out all of his boring duties.

Easily enough, Tharja's mind wandered to the object of her desire. Her hand twitched as she remembered how his skin felt. Longing to be close to him again kept her awake for most of the night, which currently made her drowsy, but picturing the Shepherds' tactician was enough to keep her moving forward. Aside from the lock of hair she took from him, she gained something important: courage. It was improper for an unmarried woman to go inside a man's tent late at night, but it was certainly bold.

She needed to be bold, and she was preparing herself to scream her feelings right in front of him – gently, though.

"Have you noticed she sometimes gets like that?" Nowi asked silently.

"Yeah, I reckon she's thinkin' of some sweetheart she has back home," Donnel whispered. "I've seen that expression 'fore. It's real hard to get her attention when she gets like that"

The sudden change in their idle conversation irked the dark mage. She leered at both of them to let the Manakete and farm boy know that she was still listening.

Nowi was unfazed by her menacing glare. "Tharja! You're still with us! So, what are you thinking?"

Tharja scoffed. "You're too young to understand?"

"Hey! I'm much, much older than all of you combined," the Manakete stated. Despite her child-like appearance, Nowi was as old as the Plegian Royal Family. "I have toenails older than Donnel."

"Didn't need to hear that," Donnel said in disgust.

"Come on, you can tell me," Nowi pressed on. "I've kept a secret for three hundred years."

"Whatever it is, that information is useless now," Tharja said, trying to change the subject.

"Maybe, but still…"

"It's better ya let her have her privacy, Nowi," Donnel cut in. Nowi pursed her lips and grunted something about Donnel being too serious sometimes. For her part, Tharja was grateful that Donnel demonstrated some maturity when the millennium old dragon hadn't.

Tharja accelerated her pace, leaving Donnel and Nowi behind. She was tired, angry, and frustrated. Although that was always the case with Tharja, she was also in love, which only served to complicate her life even more. It only took her a moment to miss their company already. As annoying as they could get, their lighthearted conversations would lift her sour mood most days. Still, Tharja knew going ahead was for the best. She feared that she would lash out at Nowi out of frustration. Seeing the young-looking girl get sad was heartbreaking, and Tharja knew it would be worse if it was caused by her inability to keep herself calm.

She eventually bumped into someone, Robin to be precise. She did not intend to, but she thanked the gods she had, for his reaction was priceless.

Robin went from pale to beet red when he saw her. "Oh! Tharja!" he stammered. "My apologies." He bolted away.

_Interesting._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Pardon my tardiness. A couple of things came up, and I also didn't want to rush this chapter. C support conversation time! I originally wanted to delay this for a little more build up, but the story was very one-sided. Without this catalyst, Robin remains blissfully unaware of his stalker's feelings. We don't want that. The next support conversation should be fairly close to this one, but plenty of stuff will happen between B and A, as well as A and S (then the story continues after S). Yes, Lex is known for his turtle pacing. _

_One last thing, I am amazed at how well received this story has become. I truly want to thank you all for your support/praise/constructive criticism. I am humbled. _

_I hope you all continue to enjoy this story. _

Chapter 6

Everyone looked away when Robin passed by. Some remained silent, while others gossiped – an all too common occurrence within the Shepherds. If Robin could say one thing about the Shepherds that made them a superior military force over any other, it was the strong ties each individual member held amongst themselves. They lived and breathed as brothers and sisters-in-arms. Having such a close knit group meant that rumors spread like a plague, and Tharja's odd behavior was certainly causing people to whisper gods know what about them. A week ago, Robin had noticed that she was indeed following him, and many people talked of the creepy mage stalking the Shepherds' tactician, but not many people had actually seen her in his shadow. Usually, Tharja followed him around discreetly, always conveniently where he was.

Today, she walked four paces behind him. It stopped being a coincidence forty minutes ago, and it was making Robin redder than a fresh tomato. He told himself that it was because of the heat, but that was a lie. Even though the temperature rose dramatically once they crossed the Feroxi-Plegian border, the truth was that Robin was flushed out of embarrassment. Not only was Tharja behaving oddly, her presence was a constant reminder of yesterday's dream. Nothing immodest happened, but his mind was beginning to fill in some blanks just to spite him. Overall, Tharja was making Robin feel physically and mentally uncomfortable.

If the gods wanted him to deal with her quickly, they had done it in the most untactful manner imaginable. Although, Robin mentally admitted to himself that he should've asked her what she wanted way before it got to the point of Tharja stalking him so openly. He was a busy man, but he always made time to help individual members of the Shepherds should he notice something off. It was his own way of reminding himself that he wasn't dealing with lifeless pawns in a war game, that these men and women had dreams and aspirations. Robin, however, was wary of Tharja. He didn't think she was a Plegian spy. In fact, she had quickly proven herself to be a valuable addition to their forces. If anything, Tharja had earned his unquestionable trust… in the battlefield.

However, she was so different. After weeks of working with Ylissean and Feroxi soldiers, Robin had noticed many characteristics that separated them. Tharja was like another species when compared to anyone else. That was his problem - at least the one he had before Tharja made him feel incredibly awkward. Robin was used to being able to understand someone after conversing with them. Tharja? She was like unsolvable puzzle. Robin had no idea what were her motivations. She had told him about her dislike of King Gangrel, but something told him that reason wasn't enough.

Not standing another stifled giggled from anyone in the rank and file who saw them together, Robin lead Tharja away from everybody. Once they were at the edge of camp, Robin turned to see his pursuer. Tharja averted her gaze. She looked like she truly wanted to say something, but didn't know how to start a conversation with him. Robin understood that feeling, because now that he was facing her, he didn't know where to begin.

Without thinking too much, Robin spoke first. "Tharja? …Are you following me?" He immediately felt foolish, and mentally slapped himself. Of course she was following him! Asking her to confirm that the sky was blue would've been a cleverer question.

"...Maybe," she answered. Robin thought of at least a dozen different ways Tharja could've reacted, but being coy wasn't one of them. Then again, it was a proper response to his incredibly obvious question. The tactician thought that if it was her intention to mock him, then she had succeeded.

"Maybe?! I've seen you hiding behind tents and wagons all week!" he exclaimed.

She stopped looking away and smirked. The intensity of her amethyst-colored eyes was little staggering for Robin. Tharja didn't look scary, but she did appear to holding something back, something that heavily weighted on her. "So you finally noticed… my love."

Normally, Robin might've taken what she said as a bad joke, but the longing in her eyes was all the evidence he needed to know that she was serious. His cheeks reddened at realization of her feelings and his own foolishness. It seemed like Lissa and everybody else were right. "Sorry, what? Your… love?" he stuttered. His mind was working against him as it began resurfacing images of the intimately close scene between them.

Tharja stepped forward. "Oh yes. I realized it the first moment we locked eyes," she said. It could've been her cultured Plegian accent, or his mind playing a trick on him, but he swore she sounded sultry. "'He isn't like the others,' I thought. 'He's the one I've been seeking!'" she continued as the got closer to him.

"Riiight. Well, um, thank you? …I guess?" Robin felt like the stupidest man in all of Ylisse. He didn't know how to react. The woman in front of him just told him how she felt, and his response was to fidget like a nervous child and say 'thank you.' There was one thing he could not do: say that he felt the same way. Aside from that, there were plenty of dignified responses he could've given her, even though he was out of his element.

Tharja was unfazed by his blunders. The dark mage kept closing the distance between them, until she almost invaded his personal space. Robin wanted to step back, but his body wasn't responding. He felt trapped by some strange force that prohibited him from moving away. "That's why I've been watching your every… single… move." To him, those last three words sounded so sensual that it made his head spin. "Yesterday you read two books and part of a third. You snacked on an apple. And last night, you turned over 12 times in your sleep. …Well below your average," she informed. For some reason, Tharja sounded proud of the last thing she said.

When the meaning of what Tharja's words finally reached his tactical mind, he panicked. "You've been watching me sleep?!" he asked dreadfully. He was disturbed that she was violating his privacy while he slept, but what deeply terrified him what the fact that he was having dreams of her. What if he said something? Perhaps her name?

She looked away, disappointed. "I thought you'd be grateful."

He managed to calm down when she stopped staring at him. "No, I think 'disturbed' is more the word." The tactician couldn't understand why she thought he would be grateful; no one would react like that if they knew they were being observed in their slumber. "You mean to tell me you've been following me every single day since we met?" Robin asked in disbelief. Tharja had joined the Shepherds months ago, but it was only recently that he noticed that she was stalking him. Robin briefly remembered they day they met; it was after their failed attempt to rescue Exalt Emmeryn. To the best of his recollections of their short conversation, Tharja didn't seem to have fallen in love on the spot.

"…Yes," she confirmed, looking at him once again. Her devious smirk was unsettling.

"I suddenly feel very ill," Robin said truthfully. He felt as if his stomach had dropped and the embarrassment made him feel dizzy.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you." She gently grabbed his arm. Then, she lovingly placed her other hand on his chest. "…Very good care." Robin didn't know he could die twice on the same day.

"Coming from a normal friend, I'd probably be happy to hear that," he admitted. "But somehow when you say it, it's not quite so comforting…"

She quickly released him and stepped back. Tharja hid her eyes under her dark bangs. "Is that what you want, Robin?" she asked meekly – very uncharacteristically of her. "Someone… 'normal'?"

Robin was confused as to what she was asking. "Well, I… suppose? That's to say-"

"All I needed to hear." He barely heard her before she bolted away.

"Wait, Tharja! Stay here! …Where I can see you!" he yelled. To his undoing, plenty of people heard him.

When Chrom asked him to help him lead troops against the superior armies of Plegia, Robin didn't back down. But when faced with a love-struck Tharja, King Gangrel and all those who took arms to protect him seemed trivial in comparison.

XXXX

Tharja wanted the earth to swallow her whole.

Even though Tharja felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders by finally telling Robin that she loved him, the Plegian mage was also… deeply troubled by what he said. For her, it was good thing that his reaction wasn't one of disgust, but he wasn't happy either. If anything, Robin was a bit mortified. She regretted acting a little seductive when she spoke to him; it might've degraded his opinion of her. She appreciated the fact that Robin apparently wasn't philanderer, but it also made things more difficult for her.

She reached a river that was near the Shepherds' camp. Tharja needed to be alone, which was how she usually spent her time when she wasn't following Robin. The Plegian mage kneeled on the edge, and stared at her reflection. The gloomy woman she saw wasn't who Robin wanted. Everything about her screamed abnormal: from the way she tied her hair to her ceremonial jewelry. She was plenty of things, but normality was her antithesis, which frustrated her greatly.

Tharja couldn't believe she had decided to change. Before meeting Robin, no one ever held that sort of power over her. The very thought of becoming someone else, just to win anyone's affections, was almost sickening. However, Robin wasn't just some just some random person. She still didn't fully know who Robin was, but he held her heart. That was reason enough for her to do just about anything that was necessary for him to reciprocate her feelings. Nonetheless, changing who she was would always be a tall order, whether love was involved or not.

The whole issue became confusing again. Previously, Tharja had resolved herself not to use magic as a tool to trick Robin into loving her, because she wanted him to genuinely love her. Judging from his reaction, he cannot fall for her, so it seemed like her only option was to be someone he could love. Ultimately, that was a contradiction. Tharja wanted him to love her, but she couldn't be herself; meaning that even if she managed to capture his heart, his feelings would belong to some artificial Tharja.

The water began to ripple, a sign that she was losing control of her powers. As much as she enjoyed what she felt for Robin, it also caused her plenty of stress and emotional pain. She could only describe it as bittersweet, bitter being the dominant part as of late. The Plegian mage thought that she was chasing a wall, instead of Robin, and was close to crashing against it. She realized that this game of cat and mouse could end horribly for her. Her feelings for him ran too deep, they were unforgettable and a part of her being. What began as exciting and interesting had turned into something else; the thought of not being with him scared her.

_Would you take it back? _She asked herself. _Would it have been better if you never met him?_

Though she hesitated for a second, he answer was clear: no. The day Chrom recruited her, fate had given her a worthy purpose and slim shot at happiness. She stuck out in a bad way amongst the Shepherds, but she belonged there more than as a pawn of King Ganrel's mad ambitions. At the same time meeting Robin was one of the greatest things that ever happened to her. Tharja wouldn't take it back if she could, even if her country declared her a traitor… or if Robin had no place in his heart for her.

XXXX

_I don't have time for this,_ he repeated in his head over and over again. _Chrom is counting on me to help him win this war. _Despite his protests, Robin kept marching towards his tent with a couple of Sumia's romance novels under his arm. _This is foolish, Robin. Your time is better spent planning some strategies, maybe even training. _He was going to spend his precious downtime on books of courtships and forbidden unions. _Yes, Robin. Gangrel will never see it coming. You'll make him swoon to death. _It was all Tharja's fault. Because of her, he felt obligated to understand what love was.

Robin knew the meaning of the word. Chrom had previously expressed his deep attachment to Sumia, and claimed to love her. Robin, on the other hand, had no idea what it was. Attraction he understood. It was baser and simply physical most of the time. Love was an abstract term he had trouble comprehending. If he loved someone prior to his amnesia, then the knowledge of it all had been lost.

This was how Robin dealt with the unknown, by reading about it. There was no such thing as too simple or too complex; if there was a book on the subject, he studied its contents until he felt satisfied with the knowledge he gained. Though he wished for a more professional text, Robin wasn't going to ask Miriel to write him a thesis on love – even if she would gladly do it.

When someone tapped his shoulders, Robin almost jumped out of his skin. He quickly hid the books under his purple cloak, afraid that Tharja would see what he was going to read if she was behind him. When he turned around, he saw Frederick and was instantly relieved. The stern knight could be terrifying, but he came nowhere near Tharja when it came to scaring him.

"Frederick! Is there a meeting? Am I late for training?" Robin knew the answers to those questions because he prepared the daily schedules. However, he was a little jumpy and wasn't reacting as he normally did.

The Shepherds' second-in-command shook his head. "No. May we speak in private?" he asked calmly.

"Sure," Robin answered. The tactician's neat and organized tent was nearby, so Robin invited Frederick inside to discuss whatever was on his mind.

"I heard there was an interesting scene between you and Tharja," Frederick began. Robin had to restrain himself from smacking his own forehead. "Is everything alright, Robin?"

"Yes!" Robin scratched the back of his head. "Everything is fine. I just wanted to say something before she left. That's why I raised my voice."

"Let's speak of her for a moment," Frederick said.

"Tharja?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "I've noticed that she has taken a liking to you, Robin." This was a horrible day for the Shepherds' tactician. "I was wondering if you could you use that to get her to follow our rules."

"Excuse me? I don't understand what you're asking me to do." As far as he knew, Tharja wasn't a troublemaker.

"She refuses to train with the rest of us, sometimes she's outright hostile to whoever approaches her, and won't leave your side during combat," Frederick explained. "I'm afraid of what others may think if we permit her to continue doing whatever she wants."

"What do you want me to do?" Robin queried. "I'm not exactly the man you call when discipline is needed."

"Even if you were, I don't think it would work on her." The knight paused for a moment. "Reason with her. Convince her to show up for our exercises, maybe tell her to teach young lord Ricken a few spells."

"I'm not sure if I can do it," he admitted.

Frederick sighed. "Then I have to ask you to pull her from the front lines."

Robin was shocked. "Why?! She's very reliable. Putting her aside would be a huge waste."

"We cannot have a rebel as one of our most trusted soldiers, Robin," Frederick stated. "You have her fighting alongside Prince Chrom. What sort of message does that send? That the Shepherds tolerate disobedience, reward it even."

Robin had to remind himself that Frederick's job was to keep order. It was thanks to his diligence and efforts that the Shepherds, as a militia, stayed in good shape. If anything Robin was grateful that Frederick came to him with a somewhat reasonable request instead of simply ordering him around. Frederick could do that if he wanted. After all, he outranked everybody except Chrom – and technically Lissa as well.

"I will talk with her as soon as possible."

"Very well." Frederick nodded in gratitude and left.

Robin inspected one of the books he had been hiding from Frederick. The title of it was: "Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight." He briefly wondered if the world had gone made before he lost all of his memories.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I knew this was going to be a problem from the start. I Even have a little note on my draft that says: "You have to stretch it." Tharja joins way too late. Two chapters before the time skip, right? The pacing in the main storyline is way too fast - unlike FE 6, which is perfect. Anyway, one more chapter before B support conversation, and that has to happen before the game's chapter 11, because of said time skip. I'll use those two years for some worldbuilding, though. Awakening fell really short on that end._

Chapter 7

Robin could tell when Chrom had recently spent time with Sumia. The Prince was having trouble concentrating, he stumbled a bit when speaking, and he was close to smiling. Sumia seemed to be the only one to lift Chrom's spirits after Emmeryn's death. Although their charismatic leader never lost his composure in front of his troops, those closest to Chrom knew that there was a sense of dread hovering over him ever since his elder sister died. Robin was glad to see that his friend had found someone that brought him some happiness amongst their daily chaos. The Shepherds' tactician couldn't help but wonder if the love Tharja held for him was the same that Chrom and Sumia shared. Thoughts like that occupied Robin's mind when he wasn't too busy, which wasn't too often.

After Tharja's confession, Robin felt somewhat flattered. The Plegian mage still made him shake in his boots if she grinned for too long, but to be held in such a high regard was a compliment. However, Robin was also paranoid. Sometimes he couldn't go thirty seconds without looking over his shoulder to see if Tharja was nearby. To have her affections made his head spin, although her stalking unsettled him. If not for her, Robin wouldn't have read an entire romance novel last night. While it had been an interesting piece of fiction, Robin felt silly. He was Prince Chrom's chief tactician and a staff officer of the joint Ylissean-Feroxi army. It was ridiculous for him to spend his time reading the steamy love affair between the duchess and a simple stable boy. Robin had not been aware that romance could be romanticized so much.

Robin forced himself to focus on Chrom. The Prince of Ylisse sat by a compact desk in the large tent where the Shepherds gathered for their meetings. His friend was taking him too long to finish reading the report that Robin had written. It was a simple document that served to inform Chrom which Shepherds were going to act as support for the main force, and the reasons behind Robin's choices. Robin thought it was amazing how easily Sumia could distract someone as sharp as Chrom. Strange as it was, Robin could sympathize. Thoughts of Tharja distracted him constantly. Although he was willing to bet that Chrom didn't get chills when thinking of Sumia.

Thankfully, Robin had not seen much of Tharja since yesterday. That was both good and bad. On one hand, not having her nearby made him feel less awkward, but he was worried that he had been a little too blunt with her. After all, he had unintentionally called her abnormal. Although it was true, there were more graceful ways to say it, if that was even necessary. Also, Robin still had to meet with her and share Frederick's concerns, without actually mentioning the knight, out fear that she might curse him. Tharja's abilities were a great boon on the battlefield, but Robin also feared that she might take it the wrong way if Frederick decided to relocate her. Tharja might think that he was trying to push her away because of what she said. Nonetheless, Robin found it hard to approach Tharja for several reasons; and it wasn't out of some aversion to the opposite sex, like Lon'qu's issue with women.

Curiosity surfaced within Robin. He wanted to know what Tharja saw in him. Robin could understand why someone would love his friend. Chrom was handsome, educated, intelligent, ethical, and a prince. While most would call Sumia the luckiest woman in the world, Chrom was fortunate that he wasn't forced into a political marriage, or that the woman who captured his heart wasn't interested in him for his power and wealth. Robin didn't lack confidence, but he wasn't sure what it was about himself that warranted those strong feelings from Tharja. It was all for naught. Robin wasn't going to walk up to her and ask her for the specific reasons for why she loved him. Mostly because he was afraid that she would actually answer him.

"Robin…" Chrom said, forcing the tactician to push all thoughts of Tharja away for the moment. "I… don't know."

"Excuse me? What's the matter, Chrom?" Robin asked in confusion.

"Could you have someone else fight alongside the Khans?" Chrom looked up to meet his friend's gaze.

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Just one? I don't see why not." Robin wasn't sure why Chrom was requesting that someone be transferred. Basilio nor Flavia had asked for more support from the Shepherds when they spoke to them a few hours ago.

"It's just that..." Chrom said, sounding unsure. "It's just going to get more dangerous from here on, right?"

"We haven't faced any Plegian troops since crossing the border, but the scouts report that the desert is crawling with Risen," Robin summarized. "Short answer: yes. We apparently have to go through a bunch of Risen before meeting with Gangrel's forces." Robin was worried that the Plegians were somehow controlling the undead menaces that plagued the land.

"Just as I thought, and we will spearhead this invasion…" Chrom paused. "I'm afraid of losing Sumia," he confessed.

"You know, despite her lack of self-confidence, I believe Sumia is a superb pegasus knight," Robin stated. "She's not defenseless out there."

Chrom sighed. "Do you remember what happened before Emm jumped?"

"Well, that battle was pretty intense, so…" Robin always felt somewhat strange when someone asked him if he remembered something in particular.

"I keep thinking of when those Risen shot down Phila and the other knights." Chrom shuddered. "Gods! Just thinking that Sumia could die like that." Chrom shook their head. "We didn't see them coming…"

"I understand what you're saying," Robin said sympathetically. "As your chief tactician, I would ask you to reconsider. We need flyers, like Sumia, to alert us if flocks of wyvern riders are going ambush us from the rear. But as your friend, I have to tell you that this is a discussion you should have with her."

"Why?"

"Imagine how Sumia will react when she learns that she's no longer fighting by your side," Robin said.

Chrom's eyes widened. "She'll think I'm pushing her away."

"Exactly," Robin said. "Besides, I bet you can protect her if something like that happens again."

"Like I protected Emm," the Prince whispered. "And if it wasn't for Marth, Lissa would also be dead."

To Robin's knowledge, he had no family whatsoever. He didn't know the pain of losing a sibling, so he didn't know what to say to comfort his friend. The best he could do was promise to keep Chrom's fears in mind when coming up with strategies. "Chrom… You can't blame yourself for what happened."

"But…"

"Do you want to know what sometimes helps me move forward?" Robin asked rhetorically. "I think of how the world will be after Gangrel is deposed. For me, it makes things more bearable." Robin sighed. "Just thinking of all the soldiers that died in when we attacked Plegia Castle… I don't know, Chrom. I would get nothing done if I succumbed to fear."

Chrom smiled. "I never thought of marriage before I decided to propose."

"Really?" Robin asked. The tactician was happy that Chrom changed the subject to something more pleasant.

"It's strange when I think about it. I was always told of the importance of continuing my bloodline, yet I was so focused on other things." Chrom laughed a little. "I think she's going to be a great wife, unlike those ladies from Emm's court."

Robin smirked. "I presume you have some unpleasant stories."

"Boring ones," Chrom deadpanned. "If anyone has unpleasant stories, it would be Emm's former suitors."

Knowing that Chrom needed to talk about his good memories with Emmeryn, Robin went on. "I'm guessing it involves you."

"When the council started pestering her to produce an heir, Falchion had deemed me worthy of wielding it." Chrom smirked. "Well, rumors of the Exalt's jealous little brother began to spread."

"I think she would've loved to know that you're engaged," Robin stated.

"I don't think she ever formally met Sumia. Can you imagine? My perfectly composed sister spending time with my klutzy fiancé." Robin felt a little guilty, because he found that image funny at Sumia's expense.

"You probably have to be worried of how much Lissa is going to tease Sumia."

Chrom groaned. "That's right. She'll get like that." Chrom shook his head. "I think you might be right, Robin. I have to talk about this with Sumia. If… if she reassures me that everything will be alright, then I will have to trust her."

"That would be for the best." Robin smiled when Chrom relaxed.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you imagine when thinking of the future?" Chrom queried.

"Mostly, your sister's vision," he answered truthfully. "As much as I like my place as the Shepherds' tactician, I would think the world would be better off if it didn't need my tactics. Until then, I stand by you."

"I appreciate it."

They both said their farewells, and Robin left to meet with some Feroxi officers. Much like Chrom, Robin's thoughts regarding marriage were none. Perhaps he had in his previous life. He wasn't against the idea. After all, Chrom seemed very happy.

XXXX

"I have a proposition for you," Tharja said to a surprised Sumia when the latter was leaving her tent. Tharja telekinetically prevented Sumia from tripping. The dark mage couldn't believe who she was asking for help. While she had nothing against the pegasus knight, Tharja simply stayed away from people who could destroy her tools.

"Tharja! Sorry, I almost fell on you." Sumia looked down, embarrassed. "What was that about a proposition?"

The words got stuck on Tharja's throat. Her request was too pathetic. Tharja would hex herself into becoming normal if she could, but she couldn't. From her own point of view, she was perfectly normal. She also couldn't predict the results if she hexed herself into becoming abnormal; meaning that she had to meet Robin's demands without using magic. As far as Tharja was concern, nothing in her life was simple after joining the Shepherds.

"I want you to teach me how to be normal," Tharja said through gritted teeth. "In exchange," she held out a handful of manakete scales, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know about your future." Everyone knew of Sumia's flower petal readings. For Tharja, those were silly practices non-dark mages relied on, for she could actually see the future. If Sumia wanted to see the future, then Tharja could accurately tell her whatever she wanted.

"Wow! You can really do that?" She stopped for a moment. "Wait… You want to be normal?" Sumia cocked her head. "I'm not sure I understand."

_Perfect! She wants me to explain. _Tharja had hoped that Sumia would not ask any questions. The Plegian mage gulped. "I want to be… friendlier, like you." Tharja felt like she was dying inside.

Sumia smiled. "That's so nice of you to say." It was a rare moment whenever someone said that Tharja was nice. "There are plenty of nicer people than me, though. Like Cordelia! Despite how good she's at everything, Cordelia has treated clumsy me with kindness over the years."

"No, it has to be you," Tharja insisted.

Sumia chuckled nervously. "Any reason in particular?"

_Because plain you became the future Queen of Ylisse! _"Not really," she lied.

"I'll help you. But could you instead make me less klutzy?"

Tharja shook her head. "I curse people, not perform miracles." The Plegian mage instantly stopped talking. She wasn't going to enlist the aid of Sumia if she lost her temper. "What I meant to say is that a curse like that could change your entire personality."

Sumia looked disappointed. "Oh well, if magic can't help, then I have to continue working hard to not break things with my face." She sighed. "Anyway, I'll teach you to be friendlier with other people." Sumia gently pushed Tharja's hand away. "And you don't need to tell me anything about the future.

The dark mage scoffed, and placed the scales inside a small pouch. "Have it your way." Tharja thought that the scales were going to go to waste. She had originally asked Nowi for some of hers, in order to see what the future held for Robin and her. In the end, she didn't go through with it. Normally, she wouldn't hesitate to use her divination skills, but in this case, she felt like waiting. Her father had taught her to tread carefully when it came when looking ahead in time; madness was the least of her worries if something went wrong. "I'll observe you from now on," she announced.

"Observe me?" Sumia stuttered. "Like you do with Robin?"

"What?!" Tharja fumed. "What did you say?!"

"Eep! Don't curse me!" Sumia begged after clasping her hands.

"Explain what you said about Robin!" Tharja stressed. She was feeling nervous. If someone as like Sumia knew that she "observed" Robin, then who didn't. _This is Chrom's future wife. Gods! What if he knows?_

"Well, everyone knows, Tharja," she explained. "Word got around of your… infatuation with Robin once Vaike and Gaius started telling everyone." Sumia gasped because the air around them suddenly became thicker.

"Those fools!" Tharja chuckled maliciously. "I think I just found my new practice dummies for some of my more dangerous curses." She smirked. "Or I could permanently shut their mouths."

Sumia paled after seeing Tharja like that. "No! You can't!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?"

"You want to be nicer, right? Normal?" Sumia squeaked. "Friendly people don't curse comrades, even if they haven't been very nice?

"That's an understatement, Sumia!" Tharja hissed. "Those two have to pay!" She blushed in embarrassment. It was unacceptable to let those two imbeciles get away with what they did. Although a small part of her admitted that it was also her fault. If she hadn't isolated herself, then she could've stopped those fools.

"Do you think Robin would approve of you cursing our own?" That was a cheap shot. Tharja couldn't even get angry because she was right.

_Let it be, Tharja. Besides, you've got other tricks. _"Fine," Tharja said calmly. "Does Chrom know?"

"Yes, Vaike told him in front of me," Sumia admitted. "He thought that you were going to harm Robin."

Tharja clenched her teeth. "Is that so? I'll have to put his fears to rest… Diplomatically, of course."

"Chrom waved him off, though," Sumia assured. "He thinks you're harmless."

The Plegian mage sighed in relief. There were two people she could not anger: Frederick and Chrom. She had already miffed the former with a little insubordination. Tharja felt justified, though. He didn't understand how anything about dark mages, so his training regimen was a waste of time for her. On the other hand, she avoided Chrom altogether. She already betrayed the King of Plegia. Tharja would have to flee to Valm if she somehow managed to get on Chrom's bad side; and she didn't know if he would tolerate her stalking of one of his closest advisors. Knowing that Chrom simply shrugged his shoulders when alerted of her little hobby was cause for celebration.

Tharja grinned. "Harmless? That's a first. So you have a problem with me observing how you behave?"

Sumia scratched the back of her head nervously. "I'm nervous enough when I'm alone. Having you – I mean anyone – following me around all day will cause me to trip even more."

Tharja grumbled in a very un-ladylike manner. "Your logic is sound. Very well, what do you suggest?"

"What if I give you some lessons?" she proposed. "We'll call it 'Normal Practice.'"

_That's an awful idea._ "Whatever you say. When do we begin?" she asked anxiously. Tharja wanted to get this whole phase over with; become the woman Robin wanted, and gain his affections.

"How about tomorrow? I have to feed the pegasi and go on some rounds later on."

_Unacceptable! It has to be now! Robin slips through my fingers the more I wait. _"Alright. I'll find you after we set up camp."

Sumia gave her a friendly smile. "Sounds good. Um, it was nice talking to you, Tharja."

"Likewise, I guess," Tharja said in an attempt to sound courteous to someone who was doing her a favor.

Sumia left, and Tharja remained perfectly still for a few moments. Her mind was having trouble processing what had just transpired. She, a powerful and talented dark mage from a prominent Plegian family, had just asked a woman who she barely knew to teach her how to be… nicer. Tharja briefly considered the possibility that she had somehow angered the gods, and this was her punishment. The only thing that stopped her from feeling sick were thoughts of Robin. He said he wanted someone normal, and if this was the price she had pay, then Tharja was willing to go through with this ridiculous change in personality.

This had to be kept secret from her mother. If that woman ever found out that she decided not to hex the man she desired, then the humiliation would be devastating to her ego. Tharja could already imagine her smug face; she hated that look. Thinking of her parents was unpleasant, so she stopped. Instead, she decided to enjoy her time left as herself.

_I haven't seen Vaike and Gaius in a while. Maybe I should visit them. _She snapped her fingers, and a small flame appeared over her fingers. _I could use some target practice._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Three weeks! Sorry for that… Trust me, I haven't forgotten, nor will I stop. Stuff has happened (I won't bore you with the details). Anyway, I'll try to update more regularly for the rest of the summer. After that, I'm hesitant to promise anything since I'm starting law school, which might be a bumpy ride at first._

Chapter 8

Robin spotted Tharja from the corner of his eye. She was eating with Gregor and Ricken. Tharja rarely joined the Shepherds during meals, so the cook personally delivered her what she ate. Seeing her socialize with other people was a welcoming change. He thought that it would make his life easier when he asked her to take part in Frederick's exercises. Although, when he saw her bored and with a slightly annoyed expression, Robin feared for the well-being of Gregor and Ricken. Word of what happened to Vaike and Gaius had spread quickly, and Tharja quickly earned a less than desirable reputation. The Shepherds still treated her with respect, but Feroxi soldiers were even less trustful of the only Plegian in their army.

The tactician then considered the possibility that Tharja was forcing herself to be around the other Shepherds because of Fredericks's scolding. No bodily harm came to Vaike and Gaius, but the stern lieutenant didn't appreciate how the Plegian mage used both of them as target practice. Robin didn't know what they did to her, although he guessed that it must have been pretty severe if the secluded Tharja did something so noticeable. In his mind, Tharja didn't handle her issue appropriately. Nonetheless, he was grateful that she was making an effort to be around other people, and that Frederick had not been too harsh on her. Despite her attitude, Robin firmly believed that it was in their best interest to keep her on the front lines.

Robin caught himself staring at her. Thankfully, she was far enough and distracted to notice. The distance between them meant that Robin wasn't sensing her dark aura, so he concentrated on her beauty without feeling nervous. Robin immediately covered his face with his hand, and pretended to rub his temples. He was actually hiding his reddened appearance. The woman was a complete mystery to him. Because of her personality, she was as engaging as a hungry mountain lion. At the same time, she looked so… feminine. Robin couldn't think of another way to describe her appearance. Everyone would agree that Tharja was attractive, but if Robin thought of her for too long, then she became somewhat alluring. A poet would describe her as a thorn covered rose. Robin, on the other hand, was a little cruder. The tactician saw her as a finely crafted sword that had been dipped in poison.

Robin made a mental note to stop reading Sumia's romance novels. Those texts were making his thoughts too prose-like. The Shepherd's tactician had a feeling that Tharja would love that sort of poetic description he had of her. She would say that it made her sound deadly. After the dark mage began appearing in his dream, Robin found himself sometimes knowing how Tharja thought or felt. It was why he panicked a little whenever he thought of Frederick removing her from their unit. He somehow knew how she would react to such a scenario, which was odd to him. Ever since her confession, Robin had downright avoided her like the plague. It was incomprehensible for him to understand her, because he consciously put some distance between them.

Admitting that he was avoiding her made Robin lose his appetite. He wasn't like that to anybody else. It wasn't fair for Tharja. She didn't even do something wrong – not to him. Robin admitted to himself that he didn't know how to handle Tharja's feelings. Life was simpler before she sprung that on him. Robin couldn't help himself. He heaved a heavy sigh through his hands, and it sounded like all the stress was catching up with him.

"Are you alright, Robin," Chrom asked. The tactician knew that his face wasn't flushed anymore, so he lowered his gauntleted hands. Chrom and Lissa sat across from him, and both of them seemed worried. Although, Lissa looked funny, because she had stuffed her face with food.

"Yes, I'm fine," Robin replied as he scratched the back of his head. "I have a lot on my mind."

"That's good. I heard that something happened during today's drill, so I thought that was bothering you," Chrom explained.

"C'mon, Chrom, we're eating!" Lissa fumed after gulping down what she had been chewing on.

Robin chuckled nervously and shook his head. "It's alright, Lissa. Anyway, nothing significant happened this morning. It was just a little friction between the Feroxi soldiers and a few Ylissean volunteers."

"Gods, I can't believe it happened again," Chrom said in disappointment. "I can't turn a blind eye to this any longer. I'm getting involved."

Robin tensed. "There's no need, Chrom. Frederick and I are handling it."

"And it keeps happening," Chrom stated. "Robin, I'm not going to yell at the Feroxi warriors and ruin Ylisse's friendsip with Regna Ferox. I just want to calmly speak to our troops, and hear what they have to say."

"I know that. It's just that you have more important duties to attend, so we didn't want to bother you," Robin explained lamely. "Besides, this is natural, right? Of course there will be internal conflicts in a diverse army like this one."

The Prince of Ylisse looked down. "If Emm was here, she would inspire everybody to work together with her message of peace." Chrom stood up. "I'm sorry, but I have work to do," he said before leaving. Robin felt like he had said that last part himself far too many times.

Lissa pouted and crossed her arms. "Why are you babying my older brother?"

"I wouldn't call it babying," Robin said defensively. "I'm just helping him with a few tasks."

"I'm not blind, Robin!" she exclaimed after slamming her small fists against the table. "You and Frederick are sheltering him. He's not a boy, you know!"

He silently pleaded her to stop yelling. "This is not the place for an outburst," Robin hissed. "We are doing your brother a favor, Lissa."

The Princess calmed down. "Explain it to me. How is it helpful to keep the next exalted from meeting with his troops?"

"I can't speak for Frederick. He's probably just doing his best to serve your brother…"

"As for you?" Lissa asked impatiently.

"I… I've been keeping Chrom's exposure to a minimum." Robin sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Lissa, you see. The thing is…" Robin hated his answer. "Inviting comparison to your late sister is not what he needs right now." He was afraid to face Lissa after saying that. However, she didn't look angry when he met her gaze. If anything, she appeared understanding to what he just said.

Lissa smiled and stood up, she then picked up her empty plate and the one Chrom left. "I appreciate that you're looking after my big brother." She walked towards him. "But don't you have your own problems to take care off?" She cocked her head in Tharja's direction. "It's not like you to stare and blush at your own problems."

All color drained from his face. Knowing that Lissa had caught him staring at Tharja made him feel very nervous. The young Princess could be unpredictable, so he didn't even dare to imagine what she would do with that information. The worst part, though, was that she had obviously misread the situation. Robin was left speechless, even as Lissa sweetly patted his shoulder and walked away.

Despite how much it bothered him, Robin admitted that Lissa was right. He was avoiding his own personal issue with Tharja, but spent his downtime trying to solve everyone's problems. Whether it was helping someone by just listening to their woes, or actively trying to help one of his comrades grow stronger, Robin made time for the men and women that fought with them. However, Robin could be a very private person. Sometimes he hid his fears and insecurities from everybody. Why? He wanted to project an image of total security, and inspire faith within the Shepherds and their allies.

He made up his mind! Robin was going to approach Tharja and talk with her. His legs were a little wobbly when he got up, so he decided to only bring up Frederick's concerns and nothing else. Just because his spine suddenly got sturdier didn't mean he was about to discuss with the dark mage everything pertinent detail: from his dreams about her, to his thoughts on her physical appearance. Nonetheless, he would eventually address her feelings – once he found a way to let her down gently. After all, there was a time and place for everything.

Robin took a deep breath when he reached her table. "Good afternoon," Robin said formally.

"Hey, Robin!" Ricken greeted cheerfully.

"Yes, swell afternoons to you too, Robin. Oi! Gregor has many recommendations for meals. Expand the menu. Robin take this to cook, yes?" Gregor handed Robin a small scribbled parchment. Robin envied Gregor's directness. "Cook never listens to Gregor. Says he does with what you give him, so Gregor bring request to you."

Robin chuckled nervously. "I'll see what I can do. We're doing the best we can, so I'm not sure if the cook can serve anything else."

Gregor raised an eyebrow. "But happy stomach makes for strong warriors. If Chrom and Robin want to win war, then you'll need many strong fighters."

"Stopped complaining," Tharja scoffed. "Be grateful that we're not being fed gruel," she said after swallowing her last spoonful of rice. The Plegian mage was looking away, purposely avoiding Robin's gaze.

Robin pocketed Gregor's note. "Tharja, can I have a word with you?" Her head turned lighting fast to face him. Robin saw her struggling to not smile. Tharja's amethyst-colored eyes, however, betrayed her intentions to hide her sudden bolt of happiness. Her usually smoky and dreary orbs shone like a stream of clear water on a sunny, summer's afternoon. Robin was taken aback by how Tharja reacted.

"Yes! Yes!" she exclaimed. Tharja lost her passive composure. She calmed herself when she noticed that Ricken and Gregor were looking at her as if she grew a second head. "I mean, of course," she said after composing herself.

"Can you meet with me outside?" Robin asked.

Tharja shot up. "Sure." She tried to keep her excitement in check. "Let's go now. I don't want to keep you waiting. You're a busy man, right?" She suddenly moved to grab his hand, but sopped herself. "Alright, let's go." She bolted before Robin could move an inch.

When the tactician turned around, he heard: "Little Ricken, why is scary woman acting like pup? Does she fancy the scrawny tactician?" Robin allowed the comment about his frame pass.

Tharja was mumbling into her hands when he met her outside. "You're not ready. You're not ready. You're not ready," she repeated quietly. "Robin!" Tharja yelped when she spotted him. "On second thought, can we talk on some other occasion? I have to practice my small talk!" She wasn't making any sense. Tharja was happy to talk with him a moment ago, and then changed her mind.

"Wait, this is too important!" Robin alarmed before she could run away.

"Just… give me a chance," she whispered darkly. "I'm not ready." The dark mage hid her eyes from him. Robin was starting to find that habit of hers a little cute. "Please, Robin, let's talk tomorrow. I'll be ready then."

Robin sighed. "It's quick. I just need a moment of your time." Robin continued when she calmed down. "Frederick has brought to my attention some worries he has regarding you."

Tharja became visibly irritated when Robin said that. "I'm a dark mage! I don't need to be part of his awful routines."

"I would agree with you. He's not like that with the other mages," Robin said. "Although, your situation is different…"

She scoffed dismissively. "So there are people who still think that I'm a spy?"

Robin waved his hand. "No! Gods forbid, no. Tharja, I've shown preferential treatment to you over other Shepherds that have been with us for longer than you have," the tactician began. "I think you've more than proven your usefulness to our cause, and I've been taking into consideration your talent whenever I plan for the next battle."

The Plegian woman smirked. She brought her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment. "Really?"

"Yes. Frederick is stricter on those who I rely the most," Robin explained. "He just wants to witness our dedication to Chrom." He was purposely leaving out Frederick's suggestion to remove Tharja if she failed to comply.

"Fine," she held out her index finger, "but I have one demand."

"I-If it's reasonable, I'll granted it," he stuttered.

"It's not exactly safe to have a mage train with a non-mage, correct?"

"Unless a none-mage wants to improve their resistance to magic," Robin stated.

"Those people tend to end up as little crisps," Tharja mentioned off handedly. "As you can imagine, I'll need someone as a partner."

"I guess." Robin didn't like where she was going with this.

"And there's only three mages in this army that I would be willing to train with: Miriel, Ricken, and you." She stepped forward. "Miriel's busy teaching Ricken some spells. That leaves only," Tharja poked his chest, "you."

Robin didn't understand why he suddenly blushed. "I-I… Chrom and I spar all the time."

"Your swordsmanship is fine," Tharja pointed out. "Perhaps you should now work on your mastery of the arcane arts." The dark mage smirked. "I'm rather talented. This way you'll learn some new tricks and get Frederick off your back."

_I should've stayed in my table. Things weren't complicated while I sat there. _"If I agree to do this, will you follow Frederick's rules?" Tharja nodded. "Then you have a deal. We'll start tomorrow." Of course Robin wasn't fooled by her claim that he had everything to gain from her convenient arrangement. She obviously had her own hidden agenda.

However, she made a lot of sense.

XXXX

Tharja dropped to her knees when she entered her messy tent. She frantically searched for her "normal" notes. They were not next to the bat wings and toad carcasses. That was the last place Tharja saw them. Instead, she found them under the flux tome Robin gave her some time ago. Thanks to Sumia's help, Tharja was able to summarize the key elements of a lovable, normal girl. It was her own thesis on normalcy. Tharja needed to review them many times before meeting with Robin for their special training time.

Life was good, life was very good. Just when she was feeling like she had hit a brick wall, fate handed her a golden opportunity. Happiness was practically flowing through her entire being. Those awful hours with Sumia were going to pay off. The pegasus knight was a great person; Tharja just hated what Sumia taught her. Talking about the weather was so blasted dreadful. But Robin was worth it. Robin was worth spending the rest of her life pointing out that the sky was blue, even if it was the most idiotic conversation topic humans conjured up.

_Step One: Smile Sweetly_

This was very hard for Tharja. If she smiled for too long, her face felt sore. She was used to scowling all the time that any other expression was straining on her features. It was incomprehensible how some people went through their entire life with a cheery expression. Her gloomy behavior wasn't exactly the greatest part of her personality, meaning that smiling more would help with her image.

_Step Two: Smile Some More_

Tharja made a mental note to work on an ice spell for when she needed to heal her trained face.

_Step Three: Laugh_

Her stomach fell. Sumia told Tharja that she needed to work on her laughter. Apparently she sounded creepy when she forced herself. _Well, nobody's perfect, _she concluded.

_Step Four: Act Natural_

It was so ironic. Tharja was supposed to act natural while she pretended to be someone she wasn't. That was just insulting. For her, it was like being slapped and being told to like it. Basically, it was the most masochistic thing she had ever forced herself to do. Being natural while pretending to be someone she wasn't was also a perfect oxymoron. Tharja was not happy with all the contradictions.

_Step Five: Be Yourself_

Tharja crossed that one out. She couldn't believe she wrote four paragraphs on how to be herself. If it wasn't for her cynical personality, she wouldn't need to be training to be normal. There were dozens of useful ways for her to spend her time, like perfecting that human implosion curse she began working on three months ago.

_Step Six: Give Him Something to Eat_

According to Sumia, the road to a man's heart is through his stomach. Tharja knew that what Sumia said sounded like hogwash, but there was some truth to it, even if it was physically impossible for the heart and stomach to be so directly connected. The pegasus knight said that Chrom fell in love with her after she began feeding him some rhubarb pies. Of course, Tharja had to mimic that one aspect of their relationship if she wanted to increase her chances of success. The Plegian mage investigated thoroughly what was Robin's favorite: liver-and-eel pie. It was as unappetizing as it sounded. Apparently the love of her life had poor tastes in food. But that was fine. Robin was intelligent.

_Step Seven: Repeat!_

Tharja mentally cursed the gods for not granting her the virtue of patience.

_A/N: I have a neat realization that I want to share with you. In Fire Emblem: Awakening logic, everything is solved with food. Want to get stronger? Eat something (F!MUxBrady). Need to improve your image. Bake him a pie (M!MUxTharja). Need a new tasty hobby? Feed someone (NoirexOwain). The list is comically long. I mean, in the Tellius series, Oscar was the only one talking about food. It was HIS thing. Here? Nope, everybody has something to say. _


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Her heart raced, but she felt sickly. Tharja wasn't ill, although the self-disappointment was enough to destroy the dark mage's spirits. Even her overwhelming love for Robin wasn't sufficiently strong to block or erase the self-loathing that Tharja was going through. It wouldn't be long before she would meet with him for some magic lessons. She was thrilled by the thought of spending time with Robin. Teaching him how to casts some spells was like a dream come true for her. However, she was going to use this opportunity to show Robin the… new Tharja. The normal, bubbly, and happy Tharja was sure to win Robin's affections, because it was she who Robin wanted. He said so himself. The tactician said that he wanted someone normal to look after him, and so she worked tirelessly to become the type of person that he wanted around. The ugly truth was that the dark mage hated this artificial persona she created.

Morphing her personality to be more like Sumia's became an act of betrayal. Tharja had been so focused on meeting Robin's standards that she had disregarded herself. At first, she believed that it was worth it, but did not anticipate how badly she would feel when she actually turned into Robin's ideal woman. It was like casting a horrible curse on herself, and being aware that hell had been imposed by her lonesome. Long ago, Tharja had come to terms with who she was. She wasn't a paragon of honor, nor was she very virtuous. Some people could claim that she was unethical. Nonetheless, Tharja was happy with herself. Tharja hadn't count on disliking who she would become, even if she had been aware of the difficulties of the transition between opposite personalities. The sheer difficulty of coming to terms with this other person was emotionally crippling.

What bothered Tharja the most was how dishonest she was being to herself. It wasn't like her to lie to someone, or hold back something important. Her blunt honesty had been the root of why some people alienated her. Nevertheless, she was proud of always being true to how she thought and felt. Not only was she lying to herself, Tharja was purposely suppressing who she really was, which was why she began to experience some self-hatred. Could she do this for the rest of her? Tharja wasn't sure anymore. The thought of carrying this awful feeling for the rest of her life was appalling.

Before leaving her tent, Tharja briefly rested on top of her cot and envisaged on how Robin would react to the new Tharja. He would probably be delighted to meet a plain girl that loves him, instead of a scary woman who is obsessed with him. He'd stop ignoring her, maybe start being more welcoming towards her. She might see that easygoing smile of his. The smile he flashes when he's relaxed, and not with her. In time, Robin would begin to reciprocate her feelings. Then Tharja could spend the rest of her life with the man she loved. Meanwhile, Tharja would hate who she had turned into as she lived her the rest of her day with Robin.

She forced herself to stand up when the sun began to rise. Tharja knew that Frederick would soon gather the Shepherds to execute the usual morning drills, and that was when she and Robin agreed to meet. The dark mage began feeling a mixture of thrill and dread. Any excuse to be with Robin was enough to get her excited; but she also felt gloomy because it wasn't her who was going to spend time with the Shepherds' tactician – it was the fake woman she created to please him. Tharja grabbed the pie she had baked an hour ago. It was still hot due to a spell she casted on it. Tharja sliced it with a clean dagger she kept nearby – just in case. The mage left her tent after placing the slice of pie on top of a plate she stole from the Shepherds' cook.

If Robin wanted more, he was permitted to enter her tent to get it.

Sleepy soldiers continued their patrol after spending most of last night on watch. The dark mage had yet to be fortunate enough to get guard duty with Robin. It was her hope that he'd react well to her new ego. If he took a liking to her, Robin may use his position of influence to tweak a few documents so they could spend a whole night together.

The Plegian mage spotted Robin walking away from camp, alone. She wasn't surprised. Tharja knew his schedule like the back of her hand. It was common for him scout the perimeter of the Shepherds' camp. According to some rumor, he was determined to make sure that no assassins were trying to slip past their defenses during the brief patrol shift. He wasn't very good at it, though. Tharja had skulked Robin dozens of times during this time of day without him noticing. Although, she had decided that "Normal Tharja" wasn't allowed to stalk Robin anymore – much to her dismay.

Tharja temporarily buried her true self, and sprinted towards Robin. "Why good day, Robin!" she greeted cheerfully. "How fare you? Enjoying this weather?" The Plegian woman felt like she was dying on the inside.

Robin blinked several times when he turned around, as if not believing what just happened. "…Tharja? What are you doing?" He asked nervously – and with a hint of disbelief.

She looked away. "What, me? Ho ho! Whatever do you mean? Just a normal greeting on a typical day." Tharja noticed that it was nearly impossible for her to lie to him while looking at his eyes. She sucked in a sharp breath of air. "…Why? Are you concerned for my welfare, good sir?"

The tactician laughed nervously. "Um, well… I suppose, in a way." His answer sounded genuine, which made Tharja feel a little elated. If he was expressing concern, it meant that he was responding well to her; at the very least, Robin found her slightly friendly.

Without Robin noticing, Tharja cursed herself to feel giddy and embarrassed. She blushed on purpose, because she had been told that some men liked the sight of a bashful woman, so she hoped Robin was one of them. "You are?! Why, how sweeeeeet!" Tharja exclaimed as she drew near him.

He stepped back. "Actually, I'm more concerned about whatever you're planning for me."

Despite her better judgment, Tharja resolved to be more forceful. "Of course I have a plan for you, silly-billy!" The Plegian mage resisted the urge to slap herself for referring Robin like that. "Now close your eye, and get ready for…" Tharja presented him with what she had been hiding behind her back. "A slice of liver-and-eel pie!" With one step, she closed the distance between them. "That's your favorite, correct? Oh, I do so adore baking," she lied. Baking was horrible. Such a mundane task was to be performed by goodwives with boring lives. She was a dark mage, which were known for being harbingers of, pestilence, famine, and doom!

"…Are you sure you're all right, Tharja?" he asked, sounding worried. "You didn't eat anything strange, did you? Miscast a hex? Hit your head on a rock?" The dark mage would've preferred any of those alternatives, for she wouldn't be aware of the ridiculous situation she was in.

However, Robin was sharp and on to her charade. Tharja knew that she had to improve her performance, so she forced a girly giggle that was horrible for her to emit. Even Robin was taken aback. "Oh ho ho, goodness me! Such an imagination you have, good sir. I'm sure I wouldn't know anything about anything strange, much less eat it!" The next lie she said was hard to endure. "Just a typical day for a typical girl here."

Understand gleamed in his eyes, so he sighed deeply. "This is about our conversation from before, isn't it?"

_Damnation! Am I not being convincing? How is he seeing right through me? I worked so hard! _Despite her inner turmoil, Tharja didn't break character. "Don't be silly. Now have some pie!"

"Look, I don't want – MMPH!" Robin was interrupted by Tharja shoving the slice of pie in his mouth. Thankfully, he chewed and swallowed, instead of spitting it out. "…Actually, that's delicious," he said truthfully. Robin even looked like he had eaten the finest meal of his life.

"Oh, huzzah! I've been working on the recipe every day after normal practice!"_ Why am I telling him that?! Am I losing my intelligence as I continue with this charade?_

Robin became pale. He looked mortified when Tharja told him of her "normal practice." Her mind scrambled to find a solution. "'Normal practice'…? You mean you've been practicing being normal?" Robin sounded unsure, guilty even.

Tharja pressed on since she couldn't come up with anything. "Indeed! And it worked!" _Please tell me that it worked. Please! _"I'm perfectly normal now! Ho ho! My yes, so typically normally plain."

"Do you realize that your 'typical normal' is very, very unusual?" Tharja had suffered injuries that were less painful than what Robin said.

The redness on her face drained. Tharja concluded that she had not been natural enough at being fake. "Oh my, huzzah? Goodness, I simply must… something?" she shakily asked herself. Her persona shattered.

"Tharja, I'm sorry about what I said before. You shouldn't have listened to me." Her chest tightened, and her hopes crumbled. "I liked you more the way you were, so can you go back to being the old Tharja?" he asked meekly.

"Gracious, I… I have been practicing so diligently as of late, I'm not sure I can stop!" She wasn't even talking to Robin. Tharja was arguing with herself.

Tharja spent the rest of the day mending her wounded psyche.

_A/N: This chapter was longer, but it everything I did after the end of the support conversation felt forced – too much angst. I think I need to develop Robin a little further, and sort of just leave the implications of this chapter without needlessly expanding on it. _


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: This is the third time I scrapped what I originally wanted to. Chapter 10 of "Deliverance" was supposed to be a retelling of "Mad King Gangrel" from the game to end this first arc with a bang. Since this was never meant to be a novelization of Awakening, I decided to end this arc with… more of the same! *Throws confetti*_

_You know, these ten chapters are actually 27,000 words worth of prologue! I wanted to start this story on the next chapter, but then I thought some "context" between our loveable couple was important. Think about it, the title doesn't make much sense at this point._

_One last thing: 100 reviews! Good lord, thanks for all the support. I hope "Deliverance" continues to entertain y'all._

Chapter 10

Everything changed. Weeks of running scenarios had been in vain, for the information the Feroxi spies brought contradicted assumptions they previously held. The Plegian forces were not as strong as they had believed them to be. According the reports the khans received, the unity of the armies of Plegia had shattered under King Gangrel's tyrannical grip. They still posed a threat. The strongest and most loyal still remained by the Mad King's side, protecting him from facing justice for the atrocious crimes he committed. It was for this reason that Robin changed his plans. Instead of preparing for a long war, the gods graced them with an opportunity to end this conflict in a single strike: King Gangrel was in the field.

Killing the evil monarch would end most of the hostilities. According to the information that they received, Emmeryn's sacrifice had earned them thousands of Plegian sympathizers: soldiers, merchants, farmers, and nobles alike. Although they had not turned on King Gangrel, their unwillingness to follow his orders was enough to give the Shepherds the upper hand in this bloody war. Their enemies still had a few advantages. They knew the terrain and still held a slight numerical advantage. The overwhelming odds had been greatly reduced, but Robin needed to organize their armies quickly in order to depose the Mad King while he was still recovering from the massive losses he'd suffered.

Within Prince Chrom's personal tent, Sully and Stahl were helping the young noble with fitting him into his new armor. Robin was working on improving his strategy for the upcoming assault by writing down different scenarios. The tactician looked up to see how Chrom was coming along. He smiled at the sight. It was obvious that his new gauntlets, boots, and cuirass were of fine craft. Those pieces were made by Khan Basilio's personal blacksmith, and few individuals could craft as well as that man. But what amused Robin was the design of the armor. It was forged to look regal, somewhat lordly. After all, Frederick had been the one who commissioned the luminous steel armor; the knight simply couldn't allow Chrom to wear something that didn't accentuate his nobility.

Robin heard some distinctive clanking and knew that Frederick was close. The knight smiled when he entered Chrom's tent. "I must say, Milord, that armor was worth every gold coin," he beamed, which was rare for him. Frederick was carrying a large square-shaped container made out of silver.

"It's a little flashy, don't you think?" Chrom asked. "I was expecting something similar to Stahl's armor."

"Ha! I wished I had something this good," Stahl chimed in after he finished strapping Chrom's shoulder plate. "A dragon could chomp on you, and you wouldn't feel a thing under this suit."

"Are you going soft on us, Captain?" Sully asked smugly. "I never thought I'd see you wearing a hunk of metal like this. This defeats the rumor of your bones being made out of iron."

Chrom looked at Sully, who was working on his right gauntlet, and smirked. "I just thought it wasn't fair how cavalry like you got to wear armor and I didn't." He flinched when the horsewoman overdid a knot. "Or I got tired of all those times someone almost impaled me through the chest."

Sully raised an eyebrow. "Do you also want a horse?"

The Prince of Ylisse shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. I know how to ride, but not as a knight like you." He chuckled. "The enemy might laugh at me if I pranced around on a horse when we meet them." They all shared a good natured laugh. The Shepherds knew how to handle pre-battle stress like no other army.

The Shepherds' lieutenant approached Chrom, and opened the container he was holding. "I brought you the Fire Emblem, Milord." He took out the golden shield, House Ylisse's most valuable treasure.

"Thank you, Frederick." Stahl and Sully distanced themselves from the Prince when they finished adjusting every piece of armor. Chrom held out his left arm to Frederick, and the knight clipped and secured the Fire Emblem on Chrom's gauntlet plate.

"Straight out of the legends, Your Majesty!" Frederick announced. "You shall strike with mighty Falchion, and defend with the Fire Emblem; just like King Marth when he saved the world."

Sometimes Robin felt like they were taking place in a legend, and that bards would sing of their deed for ages. The tactician believed his role was symmetrical to Sir Jagen's during the War of Heroes. In fact, Robin based some of his tactics on the legendary knight's strategies. Although history texts depicted King Marth's staunch protector as an experienced and massive knight, just like Frederick was to the Shepherds.

"I second that, Chrom," Robin spoke up when he rose to his feet.

"You've been silent, Robin. Is everything fine?" Chrom queried.

"Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind." _I will not fail again, Chrom. We will all walk out of this alive. _"Until just a few days ago we believed that this war was going drag on for a long time. Our prayers have been answered if we can end it all… today." He momentarily pursed his lips. "We can make you sister's wish come true when we rid the world of that madman."

Chrom smiled. "She would've liked you, Robin." The Prince grabbed the hilt of Falchion, which rested by his side. "You remind me that this shouldn't be about vengeance – Emm would not want that. This is for the world she envisioned."

As long as Gangrel was alive, humankind's worst aspects would continue to manifest themselves on the weak-minded he managed to control. The Shepherds and every Ylissean wanted Gangrel to die for the sake of justice, but Robin couldn't ignore everyone's hidden desire for revenge. While he could sympathize, Robin did everything he could from resorting to the King of Plegia's level, for the evil man would be vindicated if they did. The tactician wouldn't allow that under any circumstances, so he and Frederick always kept calm when they advised their leader.

"You're too kind," Robin said, sounding embarrassed. "I didn't know her for very long, but I believe that she'd be proud of how many people you convinced to pick up her banner."

"We're not done yet," Stahl chimed in.

"That's right! My sword arm is itching!" Sully declared. "Those bastards are asking for a thrashing. They'll never know what hit them." She looked at Chrom. "Captain, do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm fine."

"The let's go, Stahl," Sully began dragging her partner, "we got some work to do ourselves before the battle."

"Thanks for your help. Gods know I might've done it wrong by myself," he told them before they both left.

"You'll get used to it, Milord," Frederick said. "After some time, it will become as natural as putting on your tunic."

"I hope so. I'd hate to ask for help whenever I need to use this." Chrom looked at the tactician. "Do you have a plan, Robin?"

"I do," he admitted meekly, "but I have a few fears. According to what the spies' report, King Gangrel's forces still dominate the skies. We may be overwhelmed if they slip past the khan's forces."

"I'm sure we can handle an ambush from a couple of wyvern rider flocks," Chrom opinioned. "Our mages have at least one wind magic tome with them, and I'm sure we'd have support from Feroxi archers if too many attacked us."

"You're right, Chrom. But I'm afraid Gangrel might use that opportunity to retreat."

"He won't," Frederick said. "Blind men like him believe they will triumph even as the world burns around them." Robin preferred to have more concrete evidence that the Mad King would not flee, but Frederick had a point. If Gangrel was a sensible man, he would've hid in his castle and allowed his generals to deal with their desertion problem. Instead, he put himself in harm's way by arrogantly trying to instill fear in his subjects for their lack of support.

"You're right. In that case, I've formulated a strategy for us to follow." Robin handed Frederick his notes. "Everything is detailed in there – what we'll need and who should come."

"Very well."

"I hate to impose on you, Frederick," Robin said. "But could you meet with Khan Flavia for me? I need to attend to a… personal matter."

The knight nodded. "Certainly."

"Thank you." Robin was grateful that neither Frederick nor Chrom questioned him before he left. He didn't keep dark secret from them, but he valued when they respected his privacy. Even though he was willing to confess what he was going to do if the had asked him, Robin preferred not to tell them.

Before a big battle like the upcoming one, it was common for soldiers to spend what little time they had doing something they enjoyed, or trying to correct some wrongs to ease their conscience. In this particular situation, it was the latter for Robin. The tactician felt he had been unfair and unkind to Tharja. The guilt of his insensitivity towards her weighted heavily, and he felt compelled to make amends for that before the war's end.

XXXX

Tharja rested on her cot when she finished packing her hexing tools, and soon she would ride to battle with the rest of the Shepherds. Some of her comrades were bold enough to declare that Plegia would fall after the next skirmish. All the talk of defeating her country made her feel ill. Interestingly enough, she hadn't considered the possibility of the Shepherds winning this needless war. The dark mage, at one point, tried to desert because she was sure that the Plegian armies would crush the Shepherds and their allies. That was when she became smitten with Robin, and the rest was history. She stayed with the Ylisseans due to her feelings for Robin.

After sighing in frustration, a bleak realization made its way into her mind: she's unable to hide her role in this war. She would no longer be welcomed in her country. If a soldier defected to the enemy's side, then he or she was exiled. As a dark mage, Tharja didn't know how the Crown would react to her defection. Some may demand that she'd be executed. Various groups of Plegia – the Grimleal amongst them - were jealous and paranoid when it came to dark magic. It was an intolerable offense for a dark mage to use her abilities outside of their jurisdictions, so not even her influential parents couldn't completely shield her from what was to come. Nonetheless, she had only herself to blame. She knew the stakes; she was aware of the possible punishments for her treachery.

Was it worth it? Tharja thought so, sort of. There was no doubt on her mind that she loved Robin, and considered herself a lucky woman for meeting him. She still didn't know him very well, or understood why he compelled her so much, but Tharja didn't dwell on that for very long. The dark mage knew better than most that some things were no meant to be explained, so she never berated her heart. However, what left Tharja in a sour mood was the fact that she had been unable to make Robin reciprocate her feelings. If fate was going to be cruel to her and separate her from her loved one, it would've been more bearable to have at least succeeded in being loved; mostly because her one-sided feelings were slowly becoming heavier on her well-being.

Despite her failed attempt to become normal so she could please him, Tharja had not given up. She was slightly miffed at Robin for falsely leading her on, but the Plegian mage didn't overlook that she was also partly to blame for the miscommunication. Besides, she hopelessly couldn't remain mad at him for too long – or at all. That said much of how much Tharja loved him, for she was known for being a spiteful woman when crossed.

Although she was hesitant to admit it, even to herself, Tharja had met plenty of… good people during her time with the Shepherds. None of them could compare to Robin, but her comrades were still worth meeting. Trust was a foreign concept within the Plegian army. Backstabbing was a common occurrence between foot soldiers and officers of the Plegian army, so bonds that formed between comrades was a myth. Of the Shepherds, Tharja was particularly fond of Nowi. Annoying as the manakete could be, there was something about her childlike innocence that Tharja simply found endearing; as if reminiscent of how she used to be, long ago…

"Tharja, are you there?" Robin's voice broke her out of her thoughts.

She quickly got up and dusted herself. For the hundredth time, she regretted not buying a small mirror when she had the chance in Regna Ferox. Tharja wanted to make sure that her long hair was not messy, but even if she had one, the dark mage didn't own a hairbrush. "Yes, I'm inside," she said, trying not to sound excited and giddy.

"W-well, I need to talk to you. Do you have a moment?" He asked timidly. Tharja noted that Robin either sounded nervous or bashful whenever he was around her. He was educated, and he expressed himself very eloquently when explaining his strategies. But every so often, Tharja managed turn make this well-spoken tactician into an embarrassed boy.

Tharja smirked. "Sure, come on in," she invited.

"Ah, I see, well, I'd rather you meet me out here," he stuttered.

"Why?" Tharja knew the answer, but felt like teasing him a little. It was her way of getting back at him for not appreciating the great lengths she went through to please him.

"It's sort of inappropriate for me to come in." Tharja thought Ylisseans could be very finicky.

Tharja hesitated for a moment, not wanting to push him away. "Really? How so?" She took a chance by teasing him again.

The dark mage heard a muffled grunt. "It's not right for me to enter a lady's tent," he whispered in annoyance. "You do not want to hear the overblown rumors that may come if someone saw me."

_Courtship or marriage can fix this little problem. _It took much of her internal strength not to verbalize that thought. "Fine, I'll come out." Tharja quickly exited her tent. She met a beet red Robin who was "casually" hiding his embarrassment by rubbing his face with both hands. "Ahem!"

"Tharja!" He stopped hiding his face.

"Fredrick cannot complain about me anymore. I've been following his orders," she stated before he could speak.

"He told me so. Thank you very much… and I apologize. I haven't held up my end of the bargain," he said with remorse.

"You're a busy man," she said bitterly. _I can't pretend you'd give me just a little special attention._

"I had time to learn a few spells with you. In fact, I could've benefited had I done it," he confessed. "It's been hard to be around you…"

"Oh…" A cold feeling went down her spine. Robin's words were as if he stabbed her and then twisted the knife in one swift motion.

"No, no, no, no! Poor choice of words, Tharja," he panicked. "I've been feeling guilty after you told me of your 'Normal Practice.'" Robin took a deep breath. "I'm afraid of saying something wrong, of hurting you."

Tharja felt like someone dumped a bucked of cold water to wake her up from a horrible nightmare. "Don't feel guilty. I might've kept the act up if it gave me a small chance to," she swallowed hard, "make you ignore me less."

"So… You've noticed," he said lamely. Tharja nodded. "The truth is… I don't know what I'm supposed to do. You said that…"

"That I love you!" she exclaimed without a trace of embarrassment. "I was very clear on that, right?"

"You were," Robin wheezed. He spoke again after clearing his throat. "This is very serious, I know that. And you're being truthful. After all, your knowledge of my activities is very thorough; disturbingly so." Tharja found it adorable how he was being so diplomatic of her stalking. "But I know nothing of romance."

_He's not saying no. _She grinned and approached him. "I'm not an expert myself, so why don't we," she gently placed her hand on his chest, "find out together."

He inhaled sharply. "That may not be the best idea." Robin took her hand off his chest as her world crumbled. "Tharja, why do you…?" The words were stuck on his throat.

"… Love you?" she finished.

"Yes, that."

"I don't know," she admitted. "You're different. You're unique, but I don't know why."

Robin found the ground easier to look at. "I'm trying not to say 'thank you' like a fool. How do you know that?"

_Because I tried to curse you when we met. _"Intuition," she lied.

"That's enough for you?" he asked in disbelief. "I mean, surely there's more to it."

_There's plenty more to it. _"Not really. I know what's in my heart. There's no point in questioning that, at least not for me."

The tactician scratched the side of his head. "I wish I had the same approach to this situation." Robin coughed nervously. "I think you're a very talented woman, I'm grateful that you've lent us your strength, and I bet you're a great person… if I got to know you. So, after the war, I could get to know you better as a friend."

"After the war?" She scoffed. "How is that supposed to work?"

"Well, Chrom has offered me the position of Grandmaster, which would make me a sort of administrator of every military force Ylisse controls: the Shepherds included." He paused for a moment. "You being a Shepherd, we would continue working together after the war ends."

_He doesn't know. _"You were expecting me to go to Ylisse?" Something about that made her feel elated. While it was a bit naive, it was also sweet for him to simply assume that she would continue being a Shepherd. _He's not repulsed by you, Tharja._

"Oh, were you going back to your family?" That was the last thing she wanted to do. Tharja wanted her parents to be well and healthy. However, she had no intentions of ever going back to them. If there was one good thing about her forced enlistment into the Royal Guard, it was the fact that it separated her from them.

"Robin," she looked away, "let's focus on surviving first. I'll go to Ylisse if we both make it."

"We'll make it through. I'll make sure of that," he said with resolve and total confidence in his tactics.

"I don't doubt it." It wasn't what Tharja meant, though. Plegian politics were deadlier than what Gangrel could throw at anybody. She was certain than no less than four coup d'états would be in motion before the King's corpse became cold.


End file.
